


Emily

by MistressMacha



Category: Elementary (TV), Endeavour (TV), Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk, House M.D., My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 39,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24998335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressMacha/pseuds/MistressMacha
Summary: Emily is rescued from her shared apartment in the middle of the night after taking a massive overdose of morphine, and through chance is assigned to a doctor who doesn't really give a damn about his patients unless their maladies interest him... or perhaps gives too much of a damn in some cases.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Frank Iero/Original Female Character(s), Gerard Way/Original Female Character(s), Sherlock Holmes & Original Female Character(s), Sherlock Holmes/Jamie Moriarty | Irene Adler
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a brand new work, all ready for you!

“Give me another syringe of that Narcan, now.” The EMT leaned over the unconscious girl on the stretcher, prying each eyelid open and shining a light into her green eyes. “Emily! EMILY! My name is Jennifer, I need you to open your eyes for me!” She shook her head. “Shit. GCS of 4, severe bradycardia, I need that Narcan now!”  
“Jeez, calm down, I was prepping it.” The other EMT almost fell over as the driver took a corner at easily three times the speed limit. “DUDE, Frances, slow down, I nearly stabbed myself!”  
“Heaven forbid.” Jennifer yanked the cap off and gave the girl yet another dose of Narcan. “Did her roommate tell you how much she took?”  
“Easily a whole bottle, and she’s only 113lbs.” Shona leaned over and looked at the monitor. “OK, we’re intubating. Pull over.” She peered down Emily’s throat and carefully threaded the tube through the vocal cords and into her lungs, whipping out the applicator and attaching the bag. “We need artificial heart stimulation yet?”  
Jennifer shook her head as they pulled away from the kerb. “We’re a hair away from it. Frances, how far?”  
“6 minutes out Sacred Heart South Jersey.”  
“Floor it. She doesn’t have six minutes. Radio ahead and tell them we have an opioid overdose coming in, critical status, and that once she clears the ER and acute admissions, transfer her to Dr Way in the psychiatric building.” Shona was squeezing the ventilation bag and trying to keep her balance. “He’s next in line for a patient. She’s just lucky she missed Dr Logan, the guy’s a hack.”  
“I’ll say.” Jennifer rolled her eyes, and suddenly a monitor started shrieking. “OK, it’s time. Get the stimulation pad.”  
Shona reached into a side cabinet and pulled out a flat white pad attached to a series of wires and slapped it on Emily’s chest. “Charge?”  
“Do it.”  
Emily began to jolt rhythmically, her long red hair spilling over the sides of the trolley.  
“OK.” Jennifer looked at the monitor, which had finally stopped shrieking. “Heart rate now 60, oxygen sats 98, we should be able to keep her alive and her brain undamaged long enough for the ER to give her the serious stuff. She gave Shona a look. “Not like that poor Mikey kid Shawn and Tyler brought in... what was it, ten years back? That kid is still in a coma. His life’s exactly the same except now he’s pumped full of psychiatric drugs. Thank God he has good insurance or they’d have pulled the plug months ago. I heard he codes at least once a week and they still resuscitate the poor guy.”  
Shona was watching the monitor. “She’s showing a positive response to the Narcan, heart rate 78 and climbing.”  
Jennifer shook her head. “It could just be the pad, if she hits 85 we remove it. FRANCES! HOW FAR?”  
“2 minutes out, all green lights ahead.” Frances floored the gas and the EMTs nearly fell over. They almost missed the sound of Emily starting to choke on the ventilation tube and Shona quickly pulled it out, hearing the girl take huge gasps. “Thank God, she’s breathing on her own.”  
“Don’t thank God, thank Narcan.” Jennifer glanced at the monitor. “Heart rate 85, oxygen stats holding steady. I think she’s good. Remove the pad.”  
Shona raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure?”  
“Well, I just renewed my malpractice insurance, so why the hell not.” Jennifer shone a light into the girl’s eyes again, relieved to see the blown pupils finally contract to light. “GCS 6. EMILY! EMILY, CAN YOU HEAR ME?”  
Emily murmured something incomprehensible and Jennifer grinned. “GCS 7. Emily, you’re doing great. Our driver drives like her pants are on fire so we should be there in a - well, now.”  
Frances somehow did one of her handbrake turns into an ambulance bay and Shona and Jennifer jumped out the back, wheeling Emily into the ER.  
“What have we got?” The on-call trauma doctor was waiting, looking pissed at being woken up at 3am.  
“911 call first received 2.26am. 21 year old female, took a full bottle of morphine, no note. Roommate found her and administered CPR until arrival of EMTs. Initial GCS of 3 with severe bradycardia and reduced breath sounds, bagged and heart stimulation applied along with repeated doses of Narcan, current GCS 7. Intubation removed en route along with heart stimulation pad. Pupils initially unreactive to stimuli but now contract on exposure to light. Patient history of severe mental illness, instructions given to transfer to Dr Way in psychiatry as soon as she clears acute admissions.” Jennifer gasped for breath, having somehow said all that in less than 15 seconds.  
Shona stepped forward helpfully and held out a piece of paper. “This is her chart.”  
“Great.” The doctor snatched it uninterestedly and stuffed it in his pocket. “Good job. We’ll get the real doctors to take it from here.” He gestured for a group of orderlies to bring over a bed and slid a sheet under Emily. “OK, 1, 2, 3, LIFT!” Emily was roughly transferred onto the hospital bed, arms covered in a mix of tattoos and long thin scars escaping from under her blanket, and then she was being rushed deeper into the ER, leaving Shona and Jennifer standing by the door with an empty trolley, feeling like idiots.  
Jennifer glared after him. “Douche.”  
Shona’s radio crackled. “Unit 800, we have a call stating a homeless man is vomiting in his shoes in the rail station, assistance requested by caller.”  
They gave each other a look and Shona grimaced. “Fantastic.”


	2. 2

“Uh… hello?” Emily knocked tentatively on the door. Usually she’d have tapped with her fingernails, but they were all clipped down to the quick. She hated losing her beautiful long nails, almost as much as she hated the pale blue patient smocks and white slip-on shower shoes she had to wear. “Dr Way? Are you there?”  
“Yeah, but I’m not getting up. Come in and lock the damn door behind you, I don’t want Dr Cooper to find out I’m actually here.”  
“Dr Cooper?” Emily frowned and pushed the door open. “The head of the hospital Dr Cooper?”  
“Yeah, the son of a bitch wants me to MC some silent auction crap he has planned.” The black haired man behind the heavy wood desk rolled his eyes. He was wearing a black vest, sinfully tight suit pants, and a pair of patent leather brogues that were currently resting on his desk as he leaned back in his chair with his feet up. His white shirt’s cuffs were unbuttoned and the sleeves pushed up to the elbows, and Emily was amused to see he was wearing Killjoys socks under the serious doctor look. His black tie’s knot was yanked down several inches and the neck of his collar was undone, and his thick black hair was messy, constantly falling into his eyes. A doctor’s coat with the name “Dr. G. Way, MD, PhD” embroidered on the chest was thrown unceremoniously on the couch.  
“Uh…” Emily clicked the lock on the door and pointed at the coat. “Aren’t you meant to wear that?”  
He made a face. “Yes. I hate the son of a bitch.”  
Emily grinned and sat down opposite him. “You hate anything that involves following rules, don’t you?”  
“Miss May, I believe it’s MY job to analyse YOU.” He raised an eyebrow, but stopped juggling prescription bottles and set them down the table. “And given your family has a Cape, a wildlife refuge, AND a fancy ass mansion named after you, plus how much this place costs per fucking day, I’m guessing you’re one more little rich girl with Daddy issues for me to deal with, am I right?”  
Emily crossed her arms. “Nope.”  
He leaned back in his chair and started to fiddle with a Rubik’s cube. “Drugs?”  
“Nope.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “I’m not rich. My family is. I don’t speak to them anymore, not since I quit Wharton Business School to become an artist. I’m only here because darling Daddy knows you’re discreet and he doesn’t want me to embarrass him.”  
He stared at her with interest, and for the first time she noticed the emerald green sheen in his hazel eyes. “Then why’d you drink the morphine?”  
Emily glanced down at her knees. “I… hurt.”  
He snorted. “Admissions couldn’t find a thing wrong with you. Daddy even paid for a full body scan.”  
“Well… I don’t know. I hurt all over. It wouldn’t stop, so I took more. And more. And more. Then I woke up in the ER alone listening to some asshole talking about transferring the nutjob to Dr Way in the Linden building.”  
Dr Way looked at her, his face more gentle this time as he set down the Rubik’s cube. “And why do you hurt?”  
“I… I… don’t want to talk about it.” Emily began to pick at her fingernails.  
He leaned forward and held out his hand to her, and she hesitantly took it. His skin was as pale as hers. “And did you want to die?”  
Emily looked shocked. “No, no, I just wanted the pain to stop, I couldn’t bear it anymore!”  
He nodded slowly and ran his other hand through his hair, making it stick up even more. “I understand.” He pulled his hand out of hers and left her holding nothing but air. “I’m going to write you prescriptions for Xanax, gabapentin, ziprasidone, and desvenlafaxine. If the pain is physical, the gabapentin will help. The ziprasidone is an antipsychotic, and the desvenlafaxine is an antidepressant. The Xanax will keep you relaxed.” He paused. “I’m going to add cyclizine too, because I wouldn’t want the desvenlafaxine to make you sick.” He smiled. “I’m not usually this honest with my patients, but you seem like an intelligent young lady. Hand these into the pharmacy and the nurse will dispense them to you at the required intervals.” He pulled the knot of his tie down and scribbled something unintelligible on a prescription pad, grabbed a post-it note, and slapped it on. “The note’s for you. For the love of God, don’t give it to the pharmacy.” He shuddered.  
Emily roared with laughter. “Ooh, that makes me want to even more.”  
He gave her a look. “Don’t you dare, Miss May.” He cleared his throat. “Did the nurses run through all the options we have here?”  
Emily shook her head. “I just got here. I haven’t even been assigned a room yet.”  
“Christ.” Dr Way shook his head. “Group five times a week. Individual treatment twice a week, which is of course with me, art therapy 6 times a week, random drug tests, daily room checks, free access to the gardens in daylight when you reach a certain privilege level-“  
“Privilege?”  
“Every time you do something good, you move one point up the rankings. Every time you do something bad - like, say, handing that post-it to the pharmacy - you drop five points.”  
“Five points?!” Emily’s mouth fell open. “That doesn’t seem fair!”  
“Just ask Iero.” Dr Way laughed. “He must be on minus a thousand by now. He loses five points every time he drops his pants in Group.”  
Emily laughed. “Anything else?”  
“Yes, I’m assigning you room 229. Overlooks the gardens, single room with its own bathroom. It’s also next to the coma guy, so it will be nice and quiet. Consider yourself blessed, but watch out for Iero stealing coma guy’s jello every mealtime. Give this note to an orderly and he’ll set you up.” He scribbled a note in his weird hieroglyphics and handed it to her, and then looked at her shoes and made a face. “Don’t worry, I’ll try and hook you up with some slip-on Keds.”  
Emily smiled. “Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome.” Dr Way was suddenly all business. “Now, Group starts in 5 minutes.” He stood up and put his hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards the door. “Down the hall, first left, third right, follow the laughter when Iero drops his pants.” He laughed and gingerly held the door open for her. “Is Dr Cooper coming? He’s bald and wears hideous ties.”  
Emily had to hold back a laugh, poked her head out and looked both ways. “No, you’re good.”  
Dr Way pressed his hands together, looked up, and muttered a prayer of gratitude. “Thank you, Emily.”  
She stared at him. “You called me by my first name.”  
“Hmmmm.” He tilted his head to the left. “So I did. I’ll have to work on that habit.” He grinned. “By the way… I like your tattoos.”

Once she was safely down the corridor, Emily looked both ways and unfolded the post-it. It had only one sentence, printed carefully in capital letters.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to stare?”


	3. 3

“So, who’s your psychiatrist?” A man next to her with the greatest ginger afro Emily had ever seen leaned over. “It’s not Dr Logan is it? I have him and all he does is prescribe things 30 years out of date and call you by the wrong name. Personally, I think he’s just counting down the days to retirement.”  
Emily shifted uncomfortably. She still wasn’t entirely comfortable around the other patients, especially now that she knew at least one of them was a serial killer. “Uh…” She feigned confusion. “I think it’s a… Dr Way?”  
“Ooooooh, Dr WAY!” The blonde girl draped around the odd British man’s neck immediately perked up. “I LOVE that he doesn’t wear his coat. His ass in those skinny tight suit pants is just PERFECTION.”  
The British man gave her a look. “Irene, I am RIGHT HERE.”  
“Sherlock, honey, you never minded doing fun stuff with other guys before…” Irene traced her thumb along his lower lip and then pulled him in by his collar for a deep kiss. “Why can’t we invite Dr Way sometime?” She winked at Emily, who shrank away. “I’d like to BITE that ass.”  
Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked at Emily. “I am so terribly sorry for my girlfriend, Miss May. She has few, in fact no, boundaries.” He shot Irene a look. “And we have been over this, Irene. The man is an addict. I do not have contact with other addicts, especially addicts that have not yet admitted that they do, in fact, have a problem.”  
Emily’s eyebrows shot up. “My psychiatrist is an addict?!”  
Sherlock nodded. “Sometimes two morphine bottles go into the coma patient’s room, yet one comes out concealed in his pocket. One can tell from the slight change in how the coat hangs on him. It’s also the only time he wears that coat. Then our gentleman Dr Way disappears into his office for several hours, I assume to shoot up.” His voice darkened. “Sometimes, he goes in there late at night to give coma boy his pain medication, and neither bottle comes out. He swans away with that damned labcoat billowing behind him, and minutes later our good friend Michael is in cardiac and respiratory arrest.”  
“Ignore him. He’s just a conspiracy theorist and jealous that he didn’t get Dr Hartland,” cut in Irene with a wink. “She is SMOKING, and very talented in… MANY areas.”  
Sherlock looked affronted. “You have Dr Hartland.”  
“And you have Dr Hamilton, and I know for a fact you’ve already fucked him at least five times.” Irene smiled sweetly.  
“What am I MEANT to do, we’re watched 24 hours a day and they won’t let me order prostitutes!” Sherlock looked almost beside himself.  
Irene gave him a shove and grinned at Emily. “Ignore him. He’s annoyed his beloved Joan won’t see him today because her father is having treatment in a different wing this week.”  
Sherlock muttered something under his breath and crossed his arms.  
Emily desperately tried to think of a way to change the subject. “Is it true Iero can have NEGATIVE privilege levels?”  
“Frank? Sure.” The man with the ginger afro laughed. “He drops his pants every group session to get a laugh, and he steals jello from the coma patient. See, he’s doing it right now.” He pointed and Emily watched Frank saunter past, nonchalantly eating a pot of lime jello. “We have a bet on whether he sticks a sock down there first.”  
“He doesn’t.” Sherlock was examining his fingernails, looking disinterested. “The shape and location of what you so foolishly believe to be a sock is entirely consistent with it being natural, if notably disproportionate to his small physical stature.”  
“SHERLOCK!” Irene smacked him playfully. “What are you doing spending so much time looking at other men for?”  
He gave her a look. “I’m not the one talking about biting Dr Way’s ass, Irene.”  
“Iero is actually assigned to Dr Way too, Emily,” said Irene, all wide-eyed innocence. “I’m sure you could ask him if Frank has a sock down his pants or not.”  
Emily felt an unexpected wave of disappointment. “Dr Way is… gay?”  
“Gay? Please, Dr Way would fuck anything that stood still long enough.” The ginger-haired man snorted. “Personally, I’d be more concerned about the whole ‘violation of doctor-patient trust’ issue, but…”  
“Well, yes.” Emily blushed. “That’s horrific, I mean, to cross that barrier with a patient… wow-“  
Irene burst into fits of laughter. “Don’t bother, honey, you’re an awful actress.” She looked at the man with the afro. “Ray, don’t be a bitter Betty just because you got assigned the fat old guy. We can’t all be blessed as she is.”  
“Who’s Emily May?” asked Frank, drifting over and tossing the empty jello pot behind a plant.  
Emily raised her hand. “I am. I got admitted last night.”  
“I looked at the chart and you already have 25 privilege points.” Frank looked affronted. “That’s not fair! I’ve been here over ten years and I’m on negative 7500 or something!”  
Ray threw out his arms in exasperation. “THEN STOP DROPPING YOUR PANTS IN MEETINGS, DUDE!”  
“You mustn’t tell him to do that, Mr Toro. Without Mr Iero’s antics the therapy meetings would be even more unbearable.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “It’s enough to drive one to drugs.” He paused. “Again.”  
Irene leaned forward with interest. “She has 25 privilege points without ever attending a group? Hmmmmm, how… intriguing.”  
“I was stuck at the pharmacy trying to straighten out a drug order. They couldn’t read my doctor’s handwriting,” Emily blurted out. “I told them what it was but they had to call him and then he got all pissy with them on the phone and asked where the hell his oxy order was because his back injury was bad.”  
“He’d get his orders more easily if he hadn’t banged all the pharmacists,” snickered Ray.  
“He hurt his back?” Emily looked concerned. “I didn’t know that. How did he do that?”  
“He said sports, but considering the closest thing to sports he ever does is croquet, I doubt it.” Frank slumped down in the seat next to her. “It was either something kinky, or he’s taking it for kicks.”  
“Oooh! Oooh!” Irene waved her hand in the air. “I vote something kinky!”  
“I vote for kicks, then.” Frank smiled at Emily and started to trace his finger along the lines of her tattoos, his shoulder length black hair slipping forward and his hazel eyes focused intently. “These are beautiful, Emily.”  
“Uh, thank you.” Emily was surprised to find herself blushing. “I drew them on myself and had the tattooist just go over my drawing.”  
“Really? You must be very, VERY talented.” He looked up through his eyelashes with a small smile and started to trace the line of a Loki figure that reached almost the side of her neck, and she shivered. “Maybe when we get out of here you could draw a couple for me?”  
“I’d… I’d like that,” managed Emily, suppressing another shiver and trying to control her breathing as he traced the line of another tattoo on her collarbone.  
“Damn, I need some tattoos,” muttered Irene. “Great way to pick up guys.”  
“IRENE!” Sherlock looked at her with exasperation. “I am RIGHT HERE!”  
“Sherlock, honey.” Irene looked up at him, biting her lip. “Did I say I wouldn’t share?”  
Sherlock blinked. “I’m sorry, your assertion was correct. We must get you some tattoos, Irene.”  
“I think my favourite is this one… the birds flying away…” Frank traced the line of the birds up the back of Emily’s neck, and the feeling of his finger tracing up her spine made her fingers and toes clench. He leaned forward and looked at her intently. “Where are the birds flying to, Emily?”  
“I… it was a symbol of freedom,” said Emily, dropping her eyes.  
“But you’re still not free, are you?” Frank raised an eyebrow at her and Emily nearly burst into tears.  
“No, but at the time I thought I was.” Emily looked at the floor, Frank’s hand still on the back of her neck as he took her hand in his.  
“I’m sorry.” Emily looked up and he smiled at her, “You will be one day, though.”  
Emily laughed bitterly. “Bullshit.”  
“You will be.” Frank’s hand had moved from her neck to her shoulder. “You just need to work some things out first.”  
Emily took a deep breath. “I-“  
“I see you and Mr Iero have met.” Emily suddenly saw Dr Way standing over them and sprang away from Frank, dropping his hand. “No, no, Miss May, it’s OK. I like my patients to get to know each other.” For a second Emily heard a hint of jealousy in his voice before he broke into a smile, his hair as messy as ever and strands falling into his eyes. His tie was unusually neat and his shirt was buttoned at the collar. For once he was wearing his white coat, complete with the “Dr. G. Way, MD, PhD” embroidery, and Emily eyed him up and down, wondering if he had the morphine bottles with him. He noticed her looking and grinned. “Surprised to see the hated coat, Miss May?”  
“A… a little,” stammered Emily. “I thought you didn’t like it.”  
“No.” He jabbed at the embroidery. “I just don’t like to be MARKED, Miss May.”  
“She just wanted to look at your juicy peach-plump ass,” interrupted Irene, “And now she can’t.”  
Dr Way looked at her with a raised eyebrow, looking amused. “Is that true, Miss May?”  
Emily bit down hard on her lip. “Nope.”  
“Hmmm, what a shame.” Dr Way slipped her what she was sure was a wink. “Remember that note I put on your prescriptions yesterday, Miss May.”  
“I remember,” said Emily. “And I could ask the same of yours.”  
There was a silence, and Dr Way paused and pulled the knot of his tie down, undoing his collar with the flick of a finger. “You know, I can always put this thing on when I get to the board meeting. It is rather hot in here.” He whipped off the coat and slung it over his shoulder. “Wonderful to see you.” He winked at them, bowed courteously, and swanned out of the room and down the corridor.  
“Hot damn,” said Sherlock, Irene, and Frank in unison.  
Hot damn, thought Emily.


	4. 4

“So, you’ve been here a month.” Dr Way had long since given up on leaning back in his chair, juggling, or playing on his Gameboy during their appointments, although Emily had figured out that fiddling with his Rubik’s cube was a nervous habit. “How are you finding it?”  
Emily wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear. “Well, the room you got me is nice… quiet except for when the coma patient next door codes, I guess, and it’d be wrong to complain about that. I just love looking at the gardens, especially now the sunflowers outside are flowering. Sunflowers are my favourite flower, so that suits me perfectly. Things are better now I have enough privilege points to have a 10pm lights out because now I can read."  
“You read?” Dr Way looked interested, “I love to read. What’s your poison?”  
“Lovecraft, Poe, Heller, Salinger, Lee, Pratchett, Guevara, Neruda…” Emily smiled. “Shame there’s no bookstore in here, huh?”  
“True.” Dr Way smiled. “You have excellent taste, Miss May. Anything else?”  
Emily thought about it, trying to think of something other than sneaking Frank into her room to make out. “Well, I’m actually enjoying art therapy. That new British guy, Morse, won’t tell anyone his first name, which is-“ She stopped. “What does the G stand for?”  
Dr Way’s head snapped up. “The G? What G?”  
“The one in your name on your coat. It just says ‘G. Way’ and everyone else has their full names. What does the G stand for?”  
Dr G looked down and began to fiddle with the Rubik’s cube. “Why does it matter?”  
Emily leaned forwards and put her elbows on his desk, resting her chin in her hands. “Just curious.”  
“The British guy’s name is Endeavour. I’d hide it too.” Dr Way started twisting and turning the cube in his hands, his knuckles whitening.  
Emily pouted. “I don’t give a shit about the British guy any more. I want to know YOUR name.”  
Dr Way was studiously avoiding looking at her. “And I’m not going to tell you.”  
“Yes you are.”  
“Nope.” Dr Way grinned.  
“Huh.” Emily sat thoughtfully for a minute and then grabbed the orange prescription bottle off his desk and looked at the label.  
“GIVE THAT BACK!” Dr Way’s eyes were wide as he grabbed at the bottle. “I NEED IT!”  
“Gerard. G for Gerard.” Emily smiled. “Gerard. That’s a beautiful name.” She rolled it over in her mouth. “Almost musical. Gerard, Gerard, Gerard, Gerard-“  
“Stop saying it,” hissed Gerard, a new fire in his eyes that made Emily’s stomach flip. “No one else knows. If I find out they do, I’ll know you told them, and I’ll be forced to give you as many negative privilege points as is humanly possible for as long as we both live.” He pointed at the bottle. “Now give that the fuck back.”  
Emily sighed, handed back the bottle, and looked at Gerard. “So… still on the oxy?”  
Gerard rolled his eyes and cracked open the bottle. “You sound like my mum.”  
‘I heard you hurt your back doing sports?”  
“Uh huh.” Gerard grabbed a handful, tossing it back and swallowing it dry.  
“What kind of sports?” Emily looked at him innocently.  
“Uh…” Gerard paused for a second, thoughtfully running his hand through his messy hair. “…Skiing.”  
Emily snorted. “Skiing?”  
“Yes. Skiing.” Gerard looked up defensively. “Skiing. I love to ski. I’m a great skier. Almost never fall over and everything.”  
“There’s a bet on whether you actually hurt your back doing something kinky,” said Emily teasingly.  
Gerard looked at her, a look of amusement in his eyes as he picked up his Rubik’s cube again. “And?”  
Emily grinned. “And did you?”  
He leaned back and raised an eyebrow at her. “And what do you think, Miss May?”  
Now or never. Emily took a deep breath. “I would just be jealous of whoever you fucked so hard you threw your back out.”  
Gerard’s mouth fell open and he dropped his Rubik’s cube. “That… that I was NOT expecting.”  
“So…” Emily smiled. “I AM one of your interesting patients, despite being such a good little girl?”  
“Oh yes.” He smiled back. “You always have been.” He paused and ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head. “And trust me, after that, I no longer think you are a ‘good little girl’.”  
“Oh.” Emily was lost for words for a few seconds. “Cool.”  
“Cool indeed.” Gerard gave her a wicked smile. “Oh, I have something for you.” He reached under his desk and pulled out a box. “I hope they suit you.”  
“OK…” Emily approached the box with some trepidation, then gasped when she opened it. It was a beautifully painted pair of Keds, covered in bright comic book images of her as a superhero surrounded by a dark black. “Oh, these are so GORGEOUS, where did you get-“  
“I got them plain white, and then I painted them myself.” Gerard shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I like comic books, and I went to art school when I was young, so…”  
“You DID these?” Emily promptly forgot herself and threw her arms around him. “Oh, thank you!”  
“You’re-“ Gerard had barely got the words out before Emily’s mouth was on his, her tongue running along his lips and then pushing deeper into his mouth. He grabbed her hair, threw her hair clip across the room, and pulled her face closer, her hands already tangled in his hair as he fought the urge to pull her into his lap and just go for it. Wait. No. “Emily, no.” He pushed her away gently. “You and Iero-“  
“No.” Emily shook her head vigorously. “Nothing like this.”  
“Yes, but…” Gerard chewed on his lip. “Look, Emily. This is normal with a new psychiatrist. It’s called transference. You need time.”  
“Well then.” Emily looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt. “It’s a damn good thing it’s the end of today’s session then, isn’t it?”  
Gerard smiled sadly and ran his hands down her waist, pulling her close for a hug, and despite herself she had to hug him back. She laid her head on his shoulder with her face rested into the side of his neck, breathing in his scent and feeling his messy hair tickling her cheek. She heard a noise of what sounded like longing deep in his throat and then he was pulling away and guiding her towards the door again, his hand pressed more firmly against her back than usual and his thumb slowly stroking the small of his back. “So, Emily…”  
“Yes, Dr Way?” She saw him wince at her use of his formal name and felt a mix of gratification and guilt.  
“After this session, you’ll have enough privilege points to have escorted trips into the gardens. Would you care for a game of croquet tomorrow?” He gave her his usual seductive grin.  
Emily hesitated. “I…” This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea. She smiled. “I would love that.”  
Gerard looked ecstatic. “Wonderful. I’ll come by your room tomorrow around 12. Don’t let me catch Iero in there or I’ll be forced to demote both of you.” He grinned. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow…” Dr Way leaned past her, the tip of his nose brushing past hers, and put his hand on the door handle. For a second he paused, his face in the her hair, his breath hot on her neck and his fingers running across her shoulder. Emily’s breath caught in her throat as he slid his fingers up and down her neck, slipping his hand under the shoulder of her top, before he finally sighed and smoothed out her scrubs. She heard him breathing heavily on her neck, feeling herself tingle and a shiver ran down her spine, and then she felt him smile against her skin, his lips brushing her ear. “…Emily.”  
She kissed him gently and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Gerard.”

After she had left, Gerard saw she had taken the Keds with her and smiled so hard he felt like his face would split in half.


	5. Chapter 5

“So, you look nice today, Miss May…” Gerard was there well before 12 the next day. “Is that a new blue smock top?”  
Emily laughed. “No, Dr Way, it’s the same regular old issue, just like the one on Sherlock out there.”  
“Hmmm…” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “And yet it doesn’t have quite the same effect with him…” He grinned at her. “Sorry I’m early, I had an - uh - important meeting cancelled.”  
Emily looked straight at him. “Dr Way, you were trying to find out if Frank was in here.”  
Gerard feigned surprise. “Miss May, I have no idea where Mr Iero happens to come-“  
“Nowhere near me, if that eases your worries.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Check his socks. Use tongs.”  
“Really?” Gerard couldn’t stop a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Never?”  
“Never. No one.” Emily shuddered and pulled on her shoes.  
Gerard raised his eyebrows. “Never?”  
“For now, but never say never, Dr Way.” Emily grinned. “Now are we doing psychoanalysis or are we going to play some damn croquet?”  
“Well, I had other things we could do, but my rule on transference pretty much rules those out.” Gerard nodded at her superhero Keds. “Nice kicks, May.”  
“Eh.” She shrugged. “Some nerd painted them for me.” She smiled at him.  
“I’d like to meet that nerd. He sounds cool.” Gerard smiled back and offered her his arm. “Shall we, Miss May?”  
“Uh…” Emily glanced outside. “I’m not sure we’re allowed to-“  
“We can if you fake a limp.” Gerard grinned as Emily finally laughed and took his arm. “I’m so terribly sorry about your left patella injury, Miss May, but yoga is an inherently risky pursuit…”  
“They are so fucking,” said Irene, taking a long draw of her soda and watching them walk out of the door.  
“They’re not. Neither are currently secreting the correct sexual pheromones for sexual intercourse to be a possibility,” replied Sherlock, sounding bored. “Which I will concede is a new thing for Dr Way.”  
“SHERLOCK!” Irene let out a cry of exasperation and emptied the rest of her soda can over him. “Do you have to ruin EVERYTHING?”  
“According to my father, yes.” Sherlock flipped open one of his UK newspapers and started to read, ignoring the lemonade currently dripping down his forehead.

“OK, a croquet official full-size court is a rectangle, 100 feet long by 50 feet wide, with chalk used to mark definite boundaries.” Gerard pointed at the court in front of them. “The nine wickets and two stakes are arranged in a double-diamond pattern. The wickets should be firmly planted in the ground, and the width of the wickets should be uniform throughout the court.”  
Emily nodded and leaned into his ear. “I like it when you’re all official.”  
He looked at her and grinned. “Emily, I am the master of the wicket.”  
She burst out laughing. “Since when?”  
He shrugged. “I don’t know. High school? I spent so much time being body tackled by the jocks I barely remember it.”  
“It’s always hard being different.” Emily squeezed his hand for a second,  
“Yes, I’m sure, what with half of New Jersey named after you.” For a second Gerard saw Emily flinch and immediately felt a stab of guilt. “Miss May-“  
“Try being a painter in a school full of future Stepford Wives and super-powered professionals,” spat Emily, her eyes narrowed to slits.  
Gerard put his hand on her shoulder. “Emily, I am sincerely, genuinely sorry. I should never have said that to someone like you."  
Emily looked at him. “Someone like me?”  
He smiled gently at her. “Someone as special.”  
“Oh.” Emily smiled back. “Apology accepted.” She pointed at the court. “OK. What next?”  
“Uh…” Gerard cleared his throat, pulling his tie down a couple of inches and brushing his hair out of his eyes. “The “turning" stakes are placed at each end, and you can get extra points for hitting them. We play with four balls-“ He saw her smirk and crossed his arms. “I’ll have to demerit you for dirty thoughts regarding croquet, Miss May.”  
Emily snickered. “I apologise, Dr Way.”  
“Good.” He tried and failed to hide a smile. “Four balls. Red, black, yellow, and blue.” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “I’ll bet Mr Iero is suffering from the latter right about now.”  
Emily punched him in the arm. “I thought we weren’t allowed to think dirty thoughts regarding croquet!”  
“No, I said you’re not.” Gerard gave her a smug look. “I’m a doctor.”  
Emily shook her head. “You jackass…”  
“Well, I was going to say ‘ladies’ first’ but since a lady would never use such language, I think we’ll go for flipping a coin to see who goes first.” Gerard winked at her. “At this point, I’d also like to politely request you not hit me with the mallet I’m about to give you.”  
Emily’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll see.”  
Gerard chose to ignore her. “All balls are played into the game from a spot halfway between the finishing stake and wicket #1. The object of the game is to advance your ball through the course scoring points for each wicket and stake in the correct order and direction. The winner is the first side to score 14 wicket points and 2 stake points for each of its balls.”  
“This is getting complicated.” Emily frowned.  
Gerard smiled at her reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”  
Emily shifted on spot, eyeing his ass in the skintight pants and trying and failing not to think impure thoughts as he bent over to place the balls on the ground.  
Gerard, you are a bad person. He bit his lip as he bent over, fully aware he was deliberately angling his hips so she couldn’t help but look at his ass. You are such a bad person. He lingered over placing the balls for a few seconds and then feigned back pain as he slowly stood up, and Emily immediately grabbed him by the waist and helped him stand. “Are you okay, Dr Way? Is your back too bad for this?”  
“What? No. No, I’ll be fine.” Gerard affected a look of masculine stoicism that was extremely hard to carry off while carrying a small mallet in a playing court surrounded by hoops and brightly coloured balls. “Each ball can score wicket and stake points for its side only by going through a wicket or hitting a stake in the proper order and direction. Going through a wicket out of order or in the wrong direction is not counted as a point gained or lost. A ball caused to score its wicket or stake during another ball’s turn earns the point for its side, but no bonus shot is earned as a result. A ball scores a wicket point only if it comes to rest clear of the playing side of the wicket. If a ball passes through a wicket but rolls back, it has not scored the wicket. If a ball travels backwards through its wicket to get position, it must be clear of the non-playing side to then score the wicket in the correct direction.Each ball can score wicket and stake points for its side only by going through a wicket or hitting a stake in the proper order and direction. Going through a wicket out of order or in the wrong direction is not counted as a point gained or lost. A ball caused to score its wicket or stake during another ball’s turn earns the point for its side, but no bonus shot is earned as a result. A ball scores a wicket point only if it comes to rest clear of the playing side of the wicket. If a ball passes through a wicket but rolls back, it has not scored the wicket. If a ball travels backwards through its wicket to get position, it must be clear of the non-playing side to then score the wicket in the correct direction.”  
“Wow, this is… complex. I’m surprised enough people play it for the hospital to maintain the pitch, especially one so hidden away-“ Emily stopped and put her hand over her mouth, something dawning on her. “The hospital didn’t create it. They don’t maintain it. You do. You created it and you maintain it.” She put her hand on his arm. “Why?”  
“I…” Gerard blushed so hard his ears turned red. “I just really like croquet, OK? It calms me. It’s where I go every lunchtime.”  
“Does anyone else know?”  
Gerard shook his head. “No. You’re the first. I don’t trust people.”  
“Me neither.” Emily smiled bitterly, and then her face softened. “So that’s really how you spend every lunch hour? You come out here to play this obscure game, all alone?”  
“Yes.” Gerard looked ashamed. “That and… er… feed my cats.”  
Emily’s eyebrows shot up. “You have CATS here?”  
“SSSSHHHH!” Gerard grabbed her wrist and pulled her in close, lowering his voice. “Technically, no, they are not mine, they are stray cats, but because I make sure to feed them every day, they’re always waiting for me, and they meow when they see me, and they wrap themselves around my legs and purr when they see me, and they let me pet them, and they act as if they love me.”  
Emily looked at him. “Only ACT as if they love you.”  
“Yes. Act.” snapped Gerard. “Okay?”  
“Okay.” Emily smiled, glanced around quickly and hugged him, his arms around her lower back and her chin on his shoulder. “Gerard.”  
Gerard straightened out his clothing and sneaked a quick wink. “Emily.”  
“You have too many wickets.”  
Emily and Gerard jerked away from each other and looked up. “Endeavour!” Gerard forced a smile. “How are you?”  
“It’s Morse. Just Morse.” He looked at his feet, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t like Sherlock. He laughs at me because I went to Oxford and because I wear tweed sometimes.” He pointed at the lawn. “You should only have six wickets and there are nine.”  
“That’s because this is American croquet, Endeavour, and this is not Oxford. And besides,” Gerard drew himself up to his full height, “I am the master of the wicket.”  
“But it’s wrong.” Morse was shaking his head. “You should have six wickets. You have nine.”  
Gerard sighed. “Endeavour-“  
“It’s MORSE!” the sandy-haired man almost screamed. “JUST MORSE! And it’s WRONG!”  
“Okay, Morse…” Gerard started to take slow steps towards him, glancing around subtly for anyone who might be able to help. Crap. He took a deep breath. “You’re both with Dr Hamilton, I’m sure if you spoke to him about Sherlock-“  
“I didn’t come over here because I wanted to talk about Sherlock.” Morse looked confused that they might think such a thing. “I came over here because you were playing croquet. I like croquet.” He smiled broadly. “We used to play it at Oxford.”  
“Wait-“ Gerard was looking around again. “Who brought you out here?”  
Morse shrugged. “No one. I saw you playing croquet through the window, and realised you had too many wickets, so I removed the putty from the inside and climbed out to warn you.” He smiled. “I like croquet.”  
“You- shit. Miss May, wait here.” Gerard strode away towards the building, dragging Morse by the elbow with one hand and knocking back a fresh handful of oxy with the other. He was so angry she could hear his voice carrying from inside the entrance hall. “DO WE HAVE NO SECURITY HERE? THIS MAN JUST REMOVED HIS WINDOW AND GAINED ACCESS TO THE OUTSIDE AND NO ONE KNEW A THING ABOUT IT!”  
There was another voice, stammering something Emily couldn’t make out.  
“THEN GET MAINTENANCE TO REPLACE HIS WINDOW AND PUT HIM IN AN INTERNAL ROOM SO HE DOESN’T FUCKING HAVE ONE! JESUS CHRIST!”  
Emily heard someone crying quietly and then Gerard was walking back towards her. She wondered hopefully if she’d get to see that fire in his eyes again, but by the time he reached her, he was laughing so hard he could barely stand.  
“He-“ Gerard was fighting to catch his breath. “He pushed out his window on the third floor, climbed out, and then put it back in before jumping down so no one would get in trouble. And he did it all just to warn us we had too many wickets.”  
Emily laughed. “That sounds like him.”  
“He is one weird dude, I’ll give you that.” Gerard shook his head. “Now… This is your mallet.” He handed her what looked like a small wooden sledgehammer. I’ll guide you through your first… strokes.” They both blushed crimson. “Now, stand like this, with your legs slightly apart…” He put his hands on her sides, just under her arms, and slid them down slowly to her hips. Emily felt as if she were about to die on the spot. “Hold the mallet like this…” He moved directly behind her, his cheek pressed against her skin and both his hands closed around hers. “Right.” He took a small step forward, pressing his entire body against her back, and Emily felt herself starting to breathe harder, fighting the urge to throw her head back against his shoulder. He turned his head slightly and smiled at her, looking down into her eyes. “Good?”  
“Yes,” managed Emily, hearing an unexpected breathiness in her voice. “Very.”  
“Okay.” He leaned forward, his chin on her shoulder so they were cheek to cheek, and she felt him breathing heavily on her neck. “When making a croquet shot, you take the striker’s ball and place it in contact with the ball you hit. The only ball you move is the striker’s ball. The other ball stays in place where it came to rest, and, um…” He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “With the two balls in contact, you then hit the striker’s ball, thereby displacing both balls. Once the striker ball comes to rest after having displaced it in the croquet shot, you then hit it in what is known as the continuation shot. A continuation shot is an ordinary-“ He swallowed. “Stroke.  
“Are you OK, Dr Way?” asked Emily innocently. “I think you’re sweating through your shirt.”  
“…Back pain.” Gerard wiped his sweaty fringe off his forehead again and raked back his hair, running his hand slowly down her arm to help her grasp the croquet mallet. “Now, you want to… um… hold the mallet more between your legs than this.”  
“Oh, I do? OK.” Emily obediently allowed him to move her hands back a few inches until his knuckles were brushing her inner thighs, and heard what sounded like a choked sob in his throat. “Dr Way?”  
“Yes, now, whatever you want to achieve in the game, the trick is to move smoothly and gracefully.” He took a deep breath, moved so their hips were pressed together and his arms were pressed against her waist, and slowly guided her as she struck the ball, which obediently rolled through the first hoop.  
“Oh God…” murmured Emily, breathing more heavily than she thought was possible and leaning her head back against his chest. “And the, uh… continuation shot?”  
“The what?” Gerard seemed a little hazy for a moment. “Oh yes, the continuation… continuation shot.” He leaned forward to rest his chin on her shoulder again and paused “The, uh, continuation shot is… well… oh God…” He leaned in and pressed his lips against the hollow at the base of her neck, their hands dropping the mallet simultaneously. He pulled Emily around to face him, his arms around her waist as he kissed her deeply. Emily’s hands slid up his body and face until they were in his hair, gripping it tightly. “Oh my God, this is such a bad idea…”  
“I know…” Emily wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him closer. “Jesus, the continuation shot is so much more fun than the croquet shot…”  
Gerard smiled against her lips and kept kissing her. “I know, and I really, REALLY like croquet…”  
“Mmmmm, I know…” Emily ran his hands through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. "Oh God, you taste so good..."  
“I think we should play more often…” Gerard started to kiss down the side of her neck, his hands tightening on her waist. "Maybe even every day..."  
Emily nodded frantically, her head arched backwards as he kissed her neck and shoulders. “I’d like to get really, REALLY good someday…”  
“Oh, me too-“ Gerard’s hands started to creep down the hips of her hospital scrubs and suddenly Emily shrieked and slapped him hard, knocking him on his back.  
“DO NOT TOUCH ME THERE!” Emily grabbed the mallet and wielded it threateningly as he carefully got to his feet, both hands up.  
“Emily-“  
“BACK THE FUCK OFF RIGHT NOW!”  
Gerard raised his hands and moved slowly towards her. “Emily, I am sorry, but if you put down the mallet for me we can pretend this didn’t happen and I won’t have to call the orderlies with their nice big syringe of Haldol, okay?”  
“I SAID BACK OFF!” Emily started to swing the mallet around wildly, and Gerard realised for the first time he could see the infamous “thousand-yard-stare” in her eyes.  
“Emily! EMILY!” Gerard held a hand out to her. “Emily, Emily, sweetheart, look at me. It’s me. It’s Dr Way. It’s Gerard. I’m not going to let them hurt you. You’re safe here.”  
Emily bit her lip and hesitated for a second before she dropped the mallet and burst into tears, throwing her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in the front of his shirt. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, for a minute you were someone else, I was somewhere else, it was-“ She started sobbing and he hugged her, stroking her long red hair. “It was so bad, Dr Way, it was so bad…”  
“It’s OK, Emily.” He kissed her forehead and pulled out his prescription pad. “I’m increasing your Xanax and desvenlafaxine. Drop this at the pharmacy, and while you’re there tell Carla I am so sorry I never called, but my heart will always belong to my dead wife and it wouldn’t be fair for me to lead her on, and that our night together will bring me eternal comfort.”  
Emily pulled back and looked at him. “You’re a widower?!”  
“No.” Gerard peeled the sheet off the prescription pad smoothly and handed it to her.  
Emily almost laughed but caught herself. “OK. Any other dead relatives?”  
He sighed. “No. Just my wife for now.” He smiled and stroked her cheek. “Thank you for playing… uh… croquet with me, Emily. Even if you did… um… beat me?”  
Emily laughed and smiled back. “Thank you for sharing this side of you with me, Gerard. It means a lot to me.” She leaned up and kissed him gently, feeling his thumbs wiping tears off her face. “And I’d like to meet your cats sometime.”  
He raised his eyebrows as they walked back towards the hospital garden entrance. “Tonight? 6pm?”  
“You really trust me?” Emily broke into a smile, even with tears streaming down her face. “Really? Even after I nearly brained you with a mallet?”  
“Really. Even after you nearly brained me with a mallet, and got one hell of a slap in there too.” Gerard shook his head, his cheek already turning dark red, and pulled out a pen. “Give me your hand.”  
“So I can’t slap you again?”  
“Smart mouth.” Gerard grinned and carefully took Emily’s hand in his, printing his untidy capital letters across her palm, his other hand on her arm and his thumb stroking her wrist. He finally stopped writing, put his pen away, and looked up at her through his dark eyelashes. “Don’t read it until you’re back in your room, Miss May, but have no doubt that it is the truth.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it, holding his lips there a fraction too long, and then turned and walked away, leaving her alone outside the garden entrance. She looked both ways, took a deep breath, and looked at the palm of her hand.

Scrawled across her skin, in thick black uneven capitals, were the words “IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT.”


	6. 6

“So, this is Macha…” Gerard pointed at a pretty little calico cat that was currently chewing on a piece of smoked salmon. “She’s my secret favourite, so she gets the salmon.”  
“Not so secret any more…” said Emily. “Now ALL the other cats know your dirty secret.”  
He raised his eyebrows. “And we all know how cats gossip, right?”  
“Right.” Emily smiled innocently. “My childhood cat was a terrible gossip. Soon, all the cats in Jersey will know ALL your dirty secrets.”  
Gerard gave her a look. “Emily, sweetheart, no one could possibly know ALL my dirty secrets.”  
Emily smiled and he glanced around and took her hand, his fingers closely entwining around hers. “So, do I get to hear any of them?”  
He shrugged. “Maybe. Although some of them are pretty bad. Filthy. SHAMEFULLY filthy.” He glanced at her and was gratified to see her blush a little and shift on the spot.  
“Well…” Emily glanced at the cats, trying to think of a way to change the subject before she jumped him on the spot. “Who’s that little black one?”  
“Her? That’s Shona. Named her after an EMT I had a fling with a few years ago. That woman nearly broke me in half. I could barely walk for a week.” He laughed, smiling to himself as he saw jealousy flash through Emily’s eyes and felt her hand tighten on his. “You know, I’m surprised she’s here alone, because normally she turns up with a hulking ginger tabby called Neil.” He looked worried for a minute, and Emily stroked his arm reassuringly. “I hope he’s OK.”  
“I’m sure he’s fine,” said Emily soothingly. “Cats are cats. They do their own thing.”  
“That’s probably why I love them so much.” Gerard handed Emily a piece of chicken. “Do you want to feed the big black and white one? His name is Dexter. He’ll eat right out of your hand.”  
Emily laughed. “Cats and croquet?”  
“Cats and croquet.” He smiled and shifted even closer to her, beckoning Dexter over. “Dexie, Dexie, Dexie…” The black and white cat made a beeline for them and Emily laughed and held out the chicken, watching the giant cat wolf it down. “This is Emily, Dexie.” He leaned in and stage whispered. “I think she’s a really cool girl. Don’t tell the others.”  
Emily threw her head back and roared with laughter, and Gerard cast a quick glance around and kissed the hollow at the base of her throat, his hand sliding slowly up her shoulder to the back of her neck. She felt his thumb stroking her spine and shivered. No, Emily. Cats. “Who’s that grey and white tabby over there?”  
Gerard looked disappointed. “Him? That’s Bryce. I brought him with me when I moved from the city. He used to live in the parking lot of the liquor store, and I thought he’d have a happier life in the gardens of a fancy South Jersey hospital.”  
“Really? I can’t believe you’d do that.” Emily broke into a smile as she looked at him. “I mean, I can, you’re such a wonderful person, but-“  
Gerard leaned in and kissed her, cutting her off mid-sentence. “There really are good people in this world, Emily, I promise you.” He sighed. “I’m just not one of them.”  
She put her hand back on his arm. “I think you’re a good person.”  
He looked ashamed. “I’m… I’m not.” He looked at his feet. “It’s why I love the cats. They act like they love me.”  
“Gerard, I’m watching them.” Emily smiled gently. “They do genuinely love you.”  
Gerard shook his head. “No. I’ve learned I’m not lovable. I live alone. work alone. I spend lunch alone. I travel to and from work alone in an ancient Trans Am that constantly breaks down. I sleep with dozens of women at their apartments and not one of them has got to a second date, hell, a FIRST date, let alone seen my house.” He stopped. “No. I fuck dozens of women. “There’s no ‘sleeping’ involved. I pick them up in bars and I never stay the night. As soon as I'm done I leave and I go home to my tiny house in Ocean City, and I spend my time off sitting alone on the dunes and watching the sea.” He smiled bitterly, tossing back a handful of his oxy, and Emily put her arms around him. “‘The Ocean has its silent caves, Deep, quiet, and alone; Though there be fury on the waves, Beneath them there is none. The awful spirits of the deep Hold their communion there; And there are those for whom we weep, The young, the bright, the fair.’” Gerard wiped his eyes quickly and looked at the floor.  
Emily leaned in and whispered in his ear. “‘The earth has guilt, the earth has care, Unquiet are its graves; But peaceful sleep is ever there, Beneath the dark blue waves.”  
Gerard looked at her in shock. “You know Hawthorne?”  
“Of course.” Emily shrugged and kissed his cheek, squatting back down to pet the cats. “I love poetry, and I love the sea.” She smiled up at him. “And frankly Hemingway is kind of a downer.”  
Gerard burst out laughing and sat down next to her, Bryce promptly curling up in his lap and purring.  
“How can you still bear me when I just told you what I am?” Gerard was stroking Bryce, scratching the cat’s head. “Why are you still here?”  
“Because I see a different side to you, Gerard, no matter what you might think of yourself.” Emily took his hand in hers again. “Otherwise I would never trust you to be outside with me alone.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Otherwise… I would never trust you enough to let you do this.” She pushed his hand down under her the front of her scrub pants, biting down hard on her lip and her clipped fingernails digging hard into his palm. “If I say stop, if I say no, I need you to stop right that second, OK, right then, the second I say it?”  
Gerard stared at her. “Emily-“  
“Please, Gerard. I’ve thought about it since this afternoon. If I am in control, this will be different.” Emily gritted her teeth. “This is not a trip to home base. I just do not want… THEM… to be the last people who touched me. Are we clear?”  
Gerard nodded slowly, leaned in and kissed her, his hand stroking the side of her face. Emily’s whole body was still tense and shivering, her hands clenched and her knuckles white, but she was still kissing him, her arm wrapped around his back and one hand still clamped on the hand inside her scrub pants as she pulled him down on top of her. He felt her whole body clench as his fingers brushed the lace edge of her panties and looked carefully at her eyes. “Emily. Are you OK?”  
“Mmmm-hmmmm.” Emily bit her lip, her eyes full of tears.  
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”  
“Mmm.” Emily forced a nod.  
“No.” He yanked his hand out of her scrubs and sat up, prying her hand off his and wincing at the bloody fingernail marks dug into his palm. “I don’t think you are.”  
“What?!” Emily sat up, open-mouthed. “I thought all men were after shit like this!”  
“Not this one.” Gerard stood up and offered her his hand, but she ignored him. “Emily, you are not OK.”  
“Why are you rejecting me?” Emily was staring at him, tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t say stop!”  
“Not verbally.” Gerard sat back down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Emily. I will kiss you, I will hug you, I will even trust you with my weird thing about cats and croquet, but you have a very, very long way to go before you’re ready for anything like that.” He brushed a strand of red hair behind her ear. “I care a lot about you, Emily. More than I think I’ve ever cared about anyone or anything.”  
She managed a smile. “Even your cats?”  
He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “…You know, probably even croquet.”  
“Even croquet?” Emily burst out laughing. “That’s a lot to live up to…”  
“Yes, but you do.” He kissed her cheek. “Are you still OK to see me for our therapy session tomorrow, or would you like me to pull a sickie and put it off for a day?”  
Emily nodded. “I’m fine.” She smiled and finally let him help her to her feet.”Thank you, Gerard.” She stretched up and kissed him again. “I think I actually trust you more now.”  
He smiled back and hugged her close, her head pressed against his chest and her arms around his waist.  
They stood there until it was well after dark, him stroking her hair, until the 9pm “lights out” bell rang and made them both jump.  
“Jesus…” muttered Emily. “I will never get used to those…”  
“Neither will I. “Gerard cleared his throat. “Are you feeling a little better now, Miss May?”  
Emily nodded against the front of his shirt, flicking open a button and kissing the skin of his chest. “Yes.”  
Gerard’s breath caught in his throat and he swallowed hard. “Remember what I wrote on your hand, Miss May. It may sound trite, but rest assured it is the truth, and I hope that one day you will come to truly believe it.”  
“Did you use indelible ink?” Emily smiled. “It won’t come off. It won’t even fade.”  
Gerard grinned. “Keep trying, Miss May.” He gestured behind him. “The staff car park is that way, and my ancient car awaits. My shift ended over three hours ago.”  
“Three HOURS?!” Emily put her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry-“  
“Emily.” He smiled and stroked her face. “I wanted to be here.” He leaned in to her ear. “I wanted to be with you. I care a great deal for you, Miss May.”  
“I’m… oh.” Emily kissed him, hesitated, and kissed him again, her hands wrapped around his back. He grabbed her waist and pulled her close, his tongue deep in her mouth. “Do you mind being… you know… a little later?”  
“Mmmm, I guess I could…” Gerard gripped the sides of her waist more tightly. “I mean, if one of my patients needs me, it is my duty as a doctor…”  
“And what about… oh God…” Emily felt him start to kiss his way down the front of her throat and threw her head back, her hands grabbing at his back. “Ohhh, and… and imagine if one of the cats needed you…”  
She felt him smile against her skin, and then his mouth was on hers again. “Well, now, that would be even worse-“ He stopped. No. You can’t do this. It’s not right. “Actually, Miss May, I’ve suddenly remembered a prior engagement.” He pulled back and forced himself to grin at her. “Don’t worry, it’s not a date. I’m going to go and check on my mother.” He faked a laugh. “I know, it’s lame…”  
“It’s adorable.” Emily smiled. “Thank you for introducing me to your cats, Gerard.”  
“You’re welcome, Miss May.” Gerard hugged her tighter, his face buried in her hair, until he reluctantly pulled away. “I hate to cut this short, Miss May, but I really must go…” He glanced around, gave her a quick kiss, swiped his card to let her into the hospital, and almost sprinted towards the car park.  
Emily turned and walked quickly through the hospital corridors until she reached her area’s rec room. “Frank. My room. Now.”  
“HELL YES!” Frank leapt off the couch and she suddenly shoved him against her bedroom door and kissed him hard, her tongue deep in his mouth as she pinned his wrists against the metal door. “Oh God, Frank, pretend you like croquet…”  
Frank looked confused. “Why croquet?”  
She reached down and fumbled for the handle to the door. “Just pretend you like it.” Emily buried her face in his black hair, imagining a different scent. “Frank, do you love croquet?”  
“Uh, yes.” Frank looked confused, but extremely happy to have his hands pinned over his head and a beautiful girl chewing on his earlobe. “Yes, I just LOVE croquet…”  
“Mmmmm….” Emily finally found the handle and they both fell in, kicking the door shut behind them.  
“Sherlock, darling…” Irene curled her finger around his jaw and started to run her hand through his hair as they sprawled on the sofa. “Have you noticed she only does that after her meetings with her beloved Dr Way and his peachy-pink ass?”  
“Please.” Sherlock rolled his eyes and flipped the page of the periodical he was reading. “That’s like asking if I’ve noticed the sky is blue, Irene.”


	7. 7

“So, Emily, it’s been three months…” Dr Way sat up on the ground, straightening his clothes and brushing off grass.  
“It has.” Emily was pulling her smock top back over her head, her bra and smock trousers still undisturbed. “I’m so terribly sorry I fell over that croquet wicket, Dr Way, and then accidentally pulled you over too when you so kindly tried to help me up.”  
“You’re quite welcome, Miss May.” Gerard looked at her, smiled, and then suddenly she was pulling him down again and he was kissing her deeply, her hands back in his hair and his hands gripping the side of her waist and tightening hard. “QUITE welcome…”  
“I’d hate to think I’d hurt you…” Emily wrapped her arm around his back and pulled his body closer. “Oh God…” He started to kiss down the side of her neck and Emily stopped and whipped her scrub top off again, breathing heavily as he began to kiss down towards her chest and along the lace edges of her bra. “Oh God, keep going…”  
Gerard stopped and looked up at her. “Are you sure?”  
Emily smiled and stroked the side of his face. “Yes.” She gestured at the chaos that had once been the north end of the croquet pitch. “I think we might have messed up the game anyway. Perhaps we should consider concluding our therapy session in your office…?”  
Gerard stared at her and then grabbed her hand and scrambled to his feet. “Oh yes, I think we definitely- oh SHIT, your shirt, your shirt…”  
“Whoops!” Emily burst out laughing and grabbed her scrub top off the ground. “That could have been BAD…”  
“Mmmmm, it could…” Gerard had both his palms pressed against her bare back and his mouth on her neck.  
Emily raised her eyebrows. “Gerard. GERARD. Let me get my shirt on.”  
Gerard was kissing her jaw and sliding his hands up her back. “Just a minute, Miss May, I’m a little busy, and one should never interrupt a doctor…”  
“Oh, Gerard, get off.” She smacked him playfully and managed to get back into her scrub top.  
He grinned and grabbed her hand, pulling her quickly towards the door of the hospital and then affecting a deeply professional attitude the second the door buzzed open. “OK, Miss May, we’re making some real progress here. I think if we work on what we developed in the outdoor session of our discussion, I think we could really achieve-“ He barely got his door closed behind them before her mouth was on his again. “Oh God, Emily…”  
“I’m sorry, your coat will have to wait on the floor.” Emily picked up his hated white coat between two fingers from the couch and tossed it across the room, where it landed on a lamp. “Or on the lamp, I guess.” She grinned and yanked open his waistcoat, unexpectedly sending all 8 buttons flying across the room. “Oops.”  
“Forgiven.” Gerard pulled her down on the couch and kissed her, throwing her scrub top vaguely towards the chair and wrapping his arms around her bare waist. “Oh, Emily…” He slipped his other hand around to flick open her bra and she grabbed his wrist. “Oh, shit, Emily, I’m sorry, did I-“  
“No, Gerard.” Emily looked him directly in the eye. “Not that.”  
“Uh…” Please don’t want to stop. Please don’t want to stop. Please don’t want to stop. Oh God, Gerard, you are such a bad person. “Do… do you want to stop?”  
“No…” Emily grinned at him and bit her lip. “I want to do this.” She took a deep breath and pushed his hand inside her hospital scrubs.  
“Emily…” Gerard tried to sit up and she pinned him down with one hand. Shit. “Emily, after last time…”  
“It has been two whole months since that, Gerard. If I say no, stop. If I say stop, stop. If I freak out, stop and tell the orderlies your patient started spontaneously stripping. Until then…” She smiled.  
Gerard stared at her. “So the whole plan is for me to put my hand down your pants and see what happens.”  
“How romantic.” Emily laughed and pulled him on top of her. “OK, Gerard, let’s see if all those fun rumours I’ve heard about you are true…”  
Gerard grinned. “But if not, Miss May, I trust you’ll defend my honour?”  
Emily looked at him innocently. “But of course.”  
Great. OK. No pressure. No pressure. Gerard took a deep breath and started to brush his fingertips around the lace edges of Emily’s panties, listening to her breathing becoming heavier, and then carefully slid his hand lower and lower over the fabric, stopping as he reached her inner thighs and heard her breath catch. “Emily? Do you want me to stop?”  
“No.” Emily shook her head, a bright flush spreading up her neck. “No, please don’t stop, Gerard, please don’t stop…”  
He looked carefully at her face and finally nodded. “Is it OK if I take these off?” He gestured at her scrub pants.  
Emily obediently held up her legs and Gerard grabbed the scrub pants by the knees and yanked them down. He took a deep breath, leaned back down and kissed her, taking her hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly as he finally started to slowly stroke her through the fabric of her panties, slipping his hand down between her legs.  
“No, no, no, Gerard, no…” Emily was shaking her head.  
Shit. Gerard whipped his hand away, biting down hard on his inside lip. SERIOUSLY? He prepared his ‘solicitous’ face. “Do you want to stop?”  
“What?” Emily stared at him. “No, you idiot, take the damn panties off too!”  
Thank God. “Ohhh….” Gerard started to kiss her again, her tongue deep in his mouth. “Emily, you can stop this any time-“  
“Just shut up and kiss me, Gerard.” Emily smiled, lifting her hips to help him ease her panties down, and he finally took a deep breath and slid his hand down between her legs, squeezing her hand reassuringly as he started to knead and stroke her carefully with his fingertips. Emily gasped, her hands clenching, and then she was kissing him deeply, her hand grabbing his thick black hair and pushing his face into hers. “Oh my GOD, that feels good, don’t stop, please…” She felt him start to kiss down her neck and a new warm tingling feeling was starting to spread through her body. “Oh… this is… oh…” She felt her hips start to push up against Gerard’s hand and a fresh jolt shot through her body. “Oh, GOD!”  
Gerard paused for a second. “Are you-“  
“Keep going, oh God, keep going!” Emily was biting hard on her lip, pressing as hard as she could against his fingers. “It’s all fine, Gerard, just don’t try and shove anything up there without asking!”  
Gerard rolled his eyes. “And I’m the unromantic one here.”  
“SHUT UP, GERARD!”  
He laughed to himself and kissed her throat before her mouth was back on his, her hand against the side of his face. “Is that OK?”  
“Oh God, yes, yes, YES…” Emily’s mouth was hanging slightly open as she breathed heavier and heavier, her eyes wide. “Oh, this feels so wonderful, this is…” A warm sense of pressure was starting to build between her legs, deeper and deeper waves of physical pleasure starting to pulse through her body. “Oh, oh God, oh Gerard, how is this… how is this even possible, is it meant to feel like this?!”  
She’s never done this before. It suddenly dawned on Gerard. SHE’S NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE. He had to restrain himself from shaking his head. You better not fuck this up, Way. “Emily, Emily, Emily…” He started to kiss her harder and deeper, barely pausing to take a breath. “Emily…”  
“Oh, Gerard…” Emily’s hips were pushing up harder and harder against his hand and she was thrusting her tongue deeper and deeper into his mouth, her fingers entwined almost painfully with his. She tried to say Gerard’s name but gasped loudly, unable to bear what felt like lightning bolts of pleasure. “Oh, oh, oh, OH…”  
“Emily…” Gerard was breathing her name into her mouth as he kissed her. “Oh, Emily, Emily, you make me so happy…”  
“You… you… I…” Emily’s eyes widened and she bit down hard on Gerard’s lip as he kissed her, tasting his blood in her mouth a second before something exploded inside her and she swore loudly, her whole body arching and shaking.  
Gerard smiled to himself and slowly stopped moving his fingers, wrapping his arm around her and rolling onto his back. “Are you OK, Emily?”  
“I… oh Jesus… oh, Gerard, I had no idea…” Emily looked up at his eyes, gasping for breath as he kissed her gently, stroking her hair. “I… what…”  
Gerard gave her an interested look. “You’ve never had an orgasm before, have you, Emily?”  
Emily went bright red and she looked away.  
“Emily.” Gerard kissed her forehead and hugged her tighter. “Talk to me.”  
Emily shrugged. “Well, I… I went to Catholic school, and then I went to Princeton, and I graduated Princeton in two years so I didn’t really have time for boys, and so-“  
Gerard raised his eyebrows. “Not even by yourself?”  
“Uh, no.” Emily looked away again. “I… well, I never knew how.”  
Gerard laughed quietly and kissed her cheek, squeezing her hand. “Well, I guess now you do.”  
Emily gave him a look. “Probably not half as good as you can…” She flicked off a button and slid her hand inside his shirt, stroking his bare skin as she kissed his neck. “You know what I CAN do?”  
Gerard wasn’t sure whether to be aroused or afraid. “What?”  
“This…” She grinned, pressed her lips against his neck and bit down, sucking hard on his skin until she could almost feel the bruise blooming against her lips, and then gently kissing the mark, her lips lingering on the red skin.  
“Well, the staff will be most relieved. I have a reputation for being a bit of a whore but lately no hickeys, no dark eye circles…” Gerard shrugged, lifted her hand to his mouth, and kissed it. “I think they thought I was dying or something, I looked so healthy.” He paused. “I don’t suppose you feel like giving me another one?”  
Emily laughed and laid her head back on his chest, her hand back inside his shirt. “Just lately, huh?”  
“Yeah.” He smiled and kissed her forehead. “Just lately.”  
There was a hesitant knock on the door and Gerard swore. “Shit, that must be Iero, he’s three hours after you!”  
“Three HOURS?” Emily’s eyes were wide.  
“Apparently…” Gerard was looking at his watch. “I did try to draw it out nice and slowly for you…”  
Emily smiled and leaned up to kiss him, and there was another, louder knock. “Dr Way?”  
“I’m just finishing with a patient!” Gerard called, helping Emily yank up her pants and hunt around for her scrub top. He pulled the top on over her head, pulled her in for a deep kiss, and smoothed down her red hair. “Emily, you are so beautiful. You are the only one I want.” He grabbed his ruined waistcoat, stuffed it in a desk drawer, opened a window, and shrugged on the hated labcoat. “Let Mr Iero in on the way out. I’ll see you after Group tomorrow for croquet… or to fix the court.” He grinned, hesitated, and wrapped his arms around her again, his lips barely on hers before someone hammered on the door so hard it nearly fell off the frame. “Shit. OK, Emily. I shall miss you.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Go look on your bed. I paid a janitor to leave a parcel there for you. Read the note on the top, and follow the instructions.” He pressed his lips against the skin behind her ear, lingering long enough to feel her heart beat beneath his lips, and finally pulled away. “Until tomorrow, Miss May.”  
Emily smiled and kissed him. “Until tomorrow, Dr Way.” She reluctantly turned to leave.  
“Oh, Miss May?”  
“Yes?” Emily looked back hopefully.  
Gerard was bright red. “…Please don’t let Mr Iero in until after I’m seated well behind my desk.”  
Emily barely stifled a laugh. “Of course, Dr Way.” She opened the door and tried and failed to dodge Frank’s enthusiastic kiss. “Dr Way will be out in a minute. He has to deal with a personal issue.” She could barely wait until the door had closed to sprint back to her room.  
“Irene, darling, you may have been on to something.” Sherlock was flicking through New Scientist and stroking Irene’s hair as she lay in his lap.  
Irene looked up at him. “What’s that, Sherlock, darling?”  
“That Miss May and Dr Way are fucking. She’s secreting the correct pheromones for sexual intercourse to be a possibility but Mr Iero is not, yet I definitely catch a hint of them from Dr Way-“  
“I KNEW IT!” Irene bolted up and knocked New Scientist out of Sherlock’s hands.  
“-but almost all are female and only barely above the amount that one might get on, say, one’s fingers… meaning any pleasuring was almost entirely one-sided and done, probably exclusively, by him.” Sherlock picked up the magazine again and reopened it, eyebrows raised. “Which is remarkably altruistic for our beloved misanthrope. I truly hope he hasn’t reformed. Misanthropes like ourselves are so few in number already.”

Emily almost sprinted to her room and found a large parcel on her bed, wrapped in plain white newsprint paper and small lengths of artist tape. She tore open the small white envelope on top with her name on, written in his familiar carefully printed capital letters.

Dearest Emily  
I hope these books bring you as much pleasure as they have brought me. Each has an inscription especially for you. Please treasure them, although I understand if you do not.  
-G


	8. 8

“Hello again, everyone. I see some old faces, but also some brand new faces here, so we’re going to do a round of introductions and get an idea of everyone’s names. For example: I’m Nikita, I’m the group therapy leader here at South Jersey Mental Facility, and I like to play lacrosse and go on nature hikes in my spare time.” She smiled. “Starting from my left, we’ll go clockwise around the circle. Ray?”  
Ray stood up and cleared his throat. “Hi, I’m Ray. I just quit a seminary, play guitar in a band, and I like to play music and admire my afro in my spare time.”  
“Hi, I’m Frank. I tattoo people, and I like to draw and drop my pants in my spare time.”  
“FRANK-“ Nikita was out of her beanbag but it was too late and Frank’s pants were around his ankles and he was gyrating, thrusting his hips and singing some kind of demented song. “FRANKI! FIVE DEMERITS! GO AND SEE DR WAY, NOW!” Nikita scribbled down a note and Emily’s eyes narrowed as she felt more than a slight twinge of jealousy. “Give him this. If I find out he didn’t get it, your life will be a LIVING HELL. Are you happy now?”  
“Very.” Frank grinned, picked up his pants and left the room.  
There was an awkward silence.  
“I apologise for Mr Iero, everyone.” Nikita was back on the beanbag, shaking her head. “He… he has some behavioural issues from a… previous injury. Now, where were we?”  
Emily stood up. “I’m Emily, I’m an artist, and I like to paint and-“ Make out with Dr Way. “And-“ Make out with Dr Way. Emily swallowed, frantically trying to think of a hobby. “And to read!”  
“Excellent.” Nikita smiled.  
“Hi, I’m Sherlock, and I’m a detective consultant for the NYPD.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “ I like bees and my tortoise. Can I go now?”  
“No.” Nikita glared. “Sit down.”  
Sherlock slumped angrily back in his bean bag chain, muttering obscenities.  
“Hi, I’m Irene!” Moriarty gave a dazzling smile. “I’m a crime oligarch and I like to plan fresh crimes and fuck Sherlock!”  
All the new people in the group stared at her wide-eyed, wondering if she was kidding, and Nikita buried her head in her hands,  
“Morse. Just Morse.” The awkward lanky British man stood with his shoulders hunched and his hands in his pockets. “I’m a detective in Oxford and I like opera and ancient literature.”  
“Nerd,” muttered Sherlock.  
“I AM NOT A NERD!” screamed Morse.  
“Guys.” Nikita tried to step in. “This is a safe space-“  
“WHAT KIND OF NAME IS SHERLOCK, ANYWAY?!”  
“Oh yeah? What kind of name is Endeavour?”  
“IT’S MORSE! JUST MORSE!”  
“Not your first name.” Sherlock sniggered. “Hey, everyone! His name is Endeavour! ENDEAVOUR!”  
“SHUT UP!” Morse threw his hands up in the air. “My parents were QUAKERS, OK, it was NORMAL!”  
“And yet, here you are…” Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “ANYTHING but normal…”  
“That’s it, Sherlock, out.” Nikita gave him a scribbled note and pointed to the door. “Go see Dr Hamilton. Now.”  
Sherlock stood abruptly from his seat, pulled his scrub top straight, and headed for the door.  
Irene pouted at being deprived of her boy toy. “But Miss Coooobaaauuuuggghhhh…”  
“Quiet, Irene,” snapped Nikita, before plastering on a fresh smile. “And now the new guys.”  
“Hi, I’m Tyler.” A guy in a leather jacket swaggered to his feet. “I work as a movie projectionist and I like to splice porn scene frames into Disney movies and jerk off in rich dudes’ soup at hotels.” He suddenly jerked and looked around. “Where am I? Why aren’t I at work at the recall office?” He looked down at his clothes and swore. “Where is my suit?”  
“Hi, I’m Gregory. This is pointless and I hate everyone and everything.” The man with the cane seemed a little grumpy. “I’m here because otherwise I get fired.” He grimaced. “Hand in the ol’ pharmaceutical cookie jar.”  
“Hi, I’m Sherlock’s friend’s father-“  
“You have Wilson’s disease.” Gregory looked uninterested.  
Nikita stared. “Gregory, he has a diagnosis of late-onset schizophrenia from three doctors, and you just met him-“  
“He has jaundice, he hasn’t stopped scratching since he got here, he’s shaking like a detox junkie even though he’s been here a month, and he’s so anxious it’s like he has a gun to his head, plus now you tell me he has late-onset hallucinations. Wilson’s. I bet if you let me have a look at his eyes I can prove it.” Gregory raised his eyebrows. “If I’m right, I get fifty extra privilege points and a transfer from Dr Logan.” He shrugged. “On the other hand, you could argue he’s just yellow anyway if you want to be all racist about it.”  
“Gregory…” Nikita looked exhausted. “You can’t just tell a man-“  
“Can you die from Wilson’s?” interrupted Joan’s father.  
“Yes, if you don’t treat it.” Gregory was twirling his cane around his fingers. “Right now, it’s just beating the shit out your liver and kidneys.”  
Joan’s father looked at Nikita. “Let him look.”  
Gregory cleared his throat and leaned in close. “Look… right… at… me- THERE! THERE!” He pointed triumphantly. “Copper deposits on the cornea visible as Kayser-Fleischer rings. Anyone here want to come see?”  
A curious crowd immediately gathered and filed past as he pointed out the rings on the clearly uncomfortable man’s eyes.  
“Am… Am I going to die?” Joan’s father had a stunned look on his face.  
“Yes. Someday.” Gregory scribbled something out on a prescription pad and handed it to him. “Just not right now.” He folded the prescription into a paper plane and threw it at Nikita. “And yes, I have prescribing rights in NJ. He’s not schizophrenic, his body’s suffering from a huge build up of copper that needs to go. Send him back to the main hospital for blood chelation to clear the copper out and start him on penicillamine immediately.”  
Nikita’s mouth was hanging open, but she pressed the wall button to summon an orderly.  
Irene slid over. “Hi there, Dr Genius, I’m Irene…”  
Gregory glanced at her. “You look a bit like the last girl who had a crush on me. It was because she thought I was broken and that she could fix me.” He looked her up and down. “Wouldn’t kick you out of bed, though.”  
Nikita swore to herself.  
“Hi, I’m Yang…” A happy brown haired woman stood up and beamed at them all as the orderlies escorted Joan’s father from the room. “And I am just so happy to be here with you all…”  
“Well, that’s just… lovely.” Nikita looked a little bemused. “Anyway, I just wanted to repeat that this group is a safe space. Anything that enters this circle does not leave this circle, unless it involves threats or a risk to a patient. It will go in your medical file, of course, but only to your personal doctor. I want you all to feel free to share, and to speak as long as you need. We have a tennis ball we pass around, and you may only speak as long as you have the tennis ball, to avoid interrupting others.” She gave each of them a firm look. “And, as a rule, we DO NOT DIAGNOSE EACH OTHER WITH SERIOUS MEDICAL CONDITIONS.”  
“But… I’ve heard of this guy. I did Econ at Princeton.” Emily held up her hand and caught the tennis ball. “He’s kind of a legend. I hear you can diagnose five patients in less than a minute.”  
“Seven is my record.” Gregory looked carefully at her. “Prepubescent-onset adenoma not diagnosed until late teens?”  
Emily’s mouth fell open. “Yes! How did you know?” She tossed the ball at him and Gregory caught it with his cane and started bouncing it around using the handle.  
Gregory waved his hand. “Small, slight stature implies it was after you’ve stopped growing, but you have somewhat developed secondary sexual features, which suggests they found it, took your pituitary gland out, and put you on hormone replacement.” He pointed at her arm muscles. “Bruising from regular intramuscular shots. I’ll bet you have way more on your thighs but the hospital nurses have been giving them in your arms out of habit. Gave you those lovely C-cups and something in the way of hips, plus that thick head of hair, but left you with a very small, androgynous body structure.”  
“Um…” Emily wasn’t really sure what to say. “…Thank you?”  
“Oh.” Gregory looked back at Nikita. “And since he did have Wilson’s, I want Dr Hartland.”  
“OK.” Nikita snatched back the ball. “Let’s try a different approach. What did everyone do yesterday?”  
“Oooh! Oooh!” Irene thrust her hand up, and Nikita reluctantly threw her the ball. “…Irene?”  
“I painted in the gardens, and I read some books with Sherlock…”  
Nikita nodded. “Well, that all sounds very nice, Irene-“  
“-And then I fucked Sherlock in the men’s’ room!”  
Nikita almost choked and spat her mouthful of tea across the room.  
“Me now!” Yang stuck up her hand and Irene glowered.  
“Fine.” Irene threw the ball across the room so it hit Yang in the face. “Oops.”  
“Well, aren’t you just the ray of Santa Barbara sunshine.” Yang smiled beatifically and started to do what appeared to be a flat-footed pirouette on the floor. “I was wondering, Miss Nikita, if my wonderful new home stages any musical or theatrical productions? I find it terribly soothing to sing and to dance and to act, you see, and I would love to bring this joy of singing and dancing to others in their times of distress…”  
“…I’m sure we can?” offered Nikita, unsure if any of the other inmates would agree to be involved, especially if it was something like Shakespeare than meant they had to wear tights.  
“Wonderful, because I do SO miss my sublime Santa Barbara. I got moved all this way away, all because I had a teeny weeny habit of escaping just a little wittle bit.”  
Nikita just shook her head in despair.  
Emily raised her hand nervously, fully aware that speaking up would get her an extra ten privilege points and she desperately wanted enough to get a weekend pass so Gerard could take her to the beach.  
“Emily. Excellent.” Nikita pointed at her.  
“Oh, what a beautiful name, and you have such beautiful, beautiful red hair…” Emily was startled when Yang actually twirled over and started petting her like a cat instead of just throwing her the ball.  
“Yang, STOP.” Nikita threw her arms up in frustration. “As a rule, guys, WE DO NOT TOUCH EACH OTHER.”  
Irene pouted. “Well, that’s no fun.”  
“Yesterday I went for a nice walk in the gardens with my doctor, Dr Way.” Emily saw a flash of anger in Nikita’s eyes and realised she was probably one of the many women he’d slept with and then ignored. Oops. “And then I started reading a selection of short stories by Edgar Allan Poe after my therapy appointment. It was wonderful.”  
“I bet,” muttered Irene under her breath.  
“Endeavour-“  
“It’s Morse! Just MORSE!”  
“Okay, Morse, you haven’t spoken yet. What did you do yesterday?”  
Morse seemed to shrink into himself. “I stayed in my room and hid from Sherlock.”  
Nikita just shook her head in despair.  
There was a loud knock and Nikita jumped up, almost weeping with relief at a break. “Yes?”  
“Note from Dr Way, Ms Cobaugh, for a Miss May.”  
Emily saw Nikita’s eyes narrow. Definitely one of Gerard’s previous women.  
“And he says he needs to see Miss May immediately?”  
Thank God. Emily raised her hand. “I’m Miss May.”  
“Cool.” A bored-looking orderly chewing gum handed her a plain white envelope and vanished down the hallway and around a corner. Emily bit her lip and opened it, and broke into a broad smile when she saw a plain yellow post-it note with a single heart symbol printed neatly in the centre.  
“Emily?” Nikita was looking at her.  
Emily quickly hid the smile and looked up. “Yes?”  
“Aren’t you going to get going? You don’t want to keep” - she gritted her teeth - “Dr Way waiting, do you?”  
Definitely not. Emily heard the door click shut behind her and took off down the empty corridor, clutching the post-it tightly in her hand. She was so focused on where she was going she didn’t see the pale hand shoot out of a janitor’s closet, grabbing her wrist and yanking her inside before slamming the door closed.  
“Wh- HEY, GET OFF ME, HEL— Gerard?” Emily frowned. “Why are we in a closet?”  
“Because I’m not due to see you for therapy today, and…” Gerard started to kiss her neck. “And my office is right off the rec room, so people would see how long we’d been in there…” He worked his way up to her jaw and she tilted her head back, running her hands down his sides. “…And it wouldn’t do for them to start asking questions…” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that you grabbing my ass, Miss May, or has the squeegee suddenly gotten all handsy?”  
“Oh, it’s all the squeegee, obviously.” Emily started kissing him and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. “Mmmm, I’ve missed you…”  
“I’ve missed you too, oh God, you have no idea…” Gerard started to kiss her harder, pausing only as she yanked her scrub top off over her head. “Tell me, did you like the books?”  
“‘We loved with a love that was more than love…With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven coveted’…” Emily kept kissing him, yanking down his tie knot and starting to undo his shirt buttons.  
Gerard looked at her and stroked the side of her face. “Poe. A beautiful choice.”  
Emily kissed him gently and smiled. “A beautiful inscription.”  
Gerard smiled back. “For a beautiful girl.”  
There was a brief silence before Emily grabbed Gerard’s hair and pulled his face back towards hers, ripping off the rest of his shirt buttons as he kissed her more and more frantically. “Oh God, Gerard, yesterday was incredible, I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day…”  
“Me neither…” Gerard started to kiss down her throat and she threw her head back, her long red hair spilling almost to the hipband of her scrubs. “You have no idea, I’ve barely been able to stand up all day and I had to carry my briefcase in front of me into work this morning…”  
“Mmmmm, poor baby…” Emily buried her face in his hair and breathed in his scent as he kissed the lace edges of her bra cups. “I can’t imagi-“  
The door opened abruptly and they both froze and stared at the janitor.  
“…Hi.” Gerard stood up straight and held out his hand to shake.  
“Hi there, Dr Way.” The janitor looked amused as he shook Gerard’s hand, looking Emily up and down appreciatively. “Nice piece.”  
Gerard could almost hear Emily’s eyes narrowing. “What do you want, Chris?”  
“Can you pass me that mop?” He pointed behind Emily.  
“This one?” Gerard held up a well-worn wooden mop.  
Chris pointed again. “No, no, that other one…”  
“This one?” Gerard tried another wooden one with numbers scrawled on.  
“Nah, it has a red handle, here, let me-“  
“WE’RE GOOD!” Gerard grabbed the only red-handled mop, shoved it at Chris, and slammed the door closed.  
“Gerard, should we go?” Emily’s eyes were wide with worry. “Do you think he’ll tell?”  
“Chris? No, this isn’t the first time, and he’s never told before. He just saves it up and uses it when he wants a favour.” Gerard grimaced. “Last time I had to wash his ancient pickup and tell any of the staff who saw me that it was for charity.”  
Emily relaxed. “Oh. OK then.”  
There was another brief silence before they grabbed each other again, Gerard’s mouth on her neck and Emily’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling their hips together. “Mmmm, Gerard, I thought we were going to play croquet…”  
Gerard started kissing her chest again, touching her through her scrubs and holding back a small moan as she started to rub her hips against him hard. “Fuck croquet.”  
“Oh, but Gerard…” Emily was starting to feel that warm sensation spread through her body again. “But Gerard, croquet…”  
Gerard laughed softly and slid his hand inside her panties, Emily starting to frantically rub against them before he started to move his fingers. “Fuck croquet.”  
“But… but…” Emily bit her lip, waves of pleasure already pulsing through her. “Oh, OH, that feels so good… oh, oh, fuck croquet, Gerard, keep going, keep going…” She could feel herself beginning to go weak at the knees as her legs trembled and he wrapped his other arm around her lower back, bracing her body against his. “Oh, oh my God, oh…” She wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders and started kissing him again, breathing heavily into his mouth. “Oh, oh Jesus, oh, oh GOD!” She was grabbing at his back, her whole body shaking. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, Gerard, Gerard, GERARD-“ He felt her grab his hair and kiss him almost painfully hard as she came, pushing hard against his hips. “Oh… oh Gerard… oh, that was…”  
“Better than croquet?” Gerard looked at her and grinned.  
“But Gerard…” Emily was still flushed, a breathless smile on her face. “Gerard, you love croquet…”  
Gerard snorted. “No, I love YOU-“  
They both stopped and a silence descended.  
“…You love me?” managed Emily in a small voice.  
“Uh… yes. Actually, now that I realise it, I do.” Gerard cleared his throat and kissed her gently. “I love you, Emily.”  
Emily smiled and kissed him back. “I love you too, Gerard.”


	9. 9

“So, Emily, you finally have enough privilege points for either a day or a weekend pass.” Dr Way smiled at her across his desk. He had established the rule that whatever they did in her leisure time, therapy time was therapy time, and lust had to be left at the door. “How do you feel about that?”  
Emily eyed him with suspicion. “Is that a trick question?”  
“No, Emily. You know I don’t do trick questions.”  
“Excited, obviously!” Emily grinned. “I’ve not seen the outside of this place in five months, I can’t WAIT to get out, even if it is just for the weekend!”  
Gerard had his Rubik’s cube in his hands again and was absently fiddling with it. “You’re not nervous at all?”  
“I-“ Emily stopped and thought about it. “Actually, yes, I guess I am a little. I don’t know… well, I don’t know what might have changed out there. I’m in this little bubble here, where everything is done for me, and taking care of myself, even for a weekend, it’s a little… daunting.”  
“And that’s why we have these passes, Emily, to give patients the chance to experience what life will be like when they do reintegrate.” Gerard reached across the desk and took her hand reassuringly. “The hospital will issue you with 50 dollars and a bus fare card, and we have a sort of “halfway house” where you can spend the night if you don’t have local friends or family. Alternatively, you can always call here, and someone will come and fetch you if it all becomes too much. Is there anything else that scares you? Running into people? It is just past summer graduation, and a lot of UPenn graduates will be taking up jobs in places like Philadelphia.”  
Emily stared at him. “You know what happened to me, don’t you?”  
Gerard nodded. “I do.”  
“But you never told me you knew.”  
“No.”  
Emily looked at him curiously. “Why?”  
“I felt you would tell me yourself, when you were ready.” He raised his eyebrows. “Is that time now?”  
“Might as well.” Emily took a deep breath. “I, well, I’m not a big partier.” She laughed bitterly. “I figure you can probably guess that from the ‘Princeton in two years’ and ‘still technically a virgin at 21’ thing.” She snorted bitterly. “‘Technically’ being the key word."  
Gerard nodded silently.  
“My Wharton roommate was dating a frat boy, and they were having a party that night. She didn’t want to go on her own because he had a history of passing out drunk early on, so she cajoled and whined until I finally gave in and agreed to go. I didn’t really have any ‘party’ clothing, so she loaned me a dark red and black leopard-print dress with a bra that shoved my boobs almost up to my chin, and a pair of sparkly black strappy shoes.” She looked at Gerard defensively. “I didn’t look like a slut or anything!”  
“Emily, I didn’t say you did, and even if you had turned up at that party in your underwear, it still didn’t give anyone permission to take advantage of you.” Gerard squeezed her hand reassuringly. “What happened after that?”  
“Well… I felt really uncomfortable in the dress, it was so tight and so short, but every time I tried to pull the skirt down to cover my legs, it pulled the neckline even further down, and I could feel all the frat boys looking at me and pointing. I tried to find my friend to say I had had enough, that I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t find her and I didn’t want her to worry, so I decided to have a couple of cocktails to take the edge off of it until I saw her.” Emily trailed off into silence, tracing patterns on the polished wood of the desk with her finger, and Gerard promptly handed her his Rubik’s cube. She smiled to herself and started to fidget with it.  
“I don’t… I don’t remember how I got there, I swear I only had two drinks, they must have slipped something in them, but I woke up in one of their rooms, and there was duct tape over my mouth and zip ties binding my hands and feet.” Emily smiled bitterly. “Since you know the whole story already, you can probably guess they took the tape off later.”  
Gerard hesitated, then picked up his chair and moved it around the desk to sit next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.  
“They called me a bitch, and a whore, and a slut, and said no one would ever want me, and then one of them smashed the neck off a beer bottle and told me he was going to cut my face.” Emily swallowed hard, tears pouring down her face. “There were like fifteen of them there, my roommate’s BOYFRIEND was there, and they cut off my dress and hung it up on the wall like some kind of… some kind of sick PENNANT.” Emily suddenly gagged and Gerard grabbed his trash can and held her hair back as she threw up into it, stroking her back soothingly. “Then they… they tore off the tape and… and…” She bent over the trash can again and heaved. “And they passed me around and made me… do things to them, with my mouth, and I was so scared to scream because they had the broken bottle inches from my eye, and after each one of them was… done, they held my mouth closed and pinched my nose shut so I had to swallow it or else I couldn’t breathe.” Emily broke down and started sobbing, her breath hitching and catching, and Gerard put the trash can down and wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair.  
“It’s OK, Emily, I’m here, I’ve got you…” He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “You don’t have to keep going right now, we can save this for another time-“  
“No.” Emily looked at him, a fierce determination on her face. “I’m not done.”  
“OK.” Gerard let her go and sat back, one arm still around her shoulders as she fiddled with the Rubik’s cube.  
“And then, after that, they put the tape back on, and I wanted to vomit but I couldn’t because I knew I’d choke on it and suffocate, so I had to keep swallowing and holding it back and the whole time they were laughing like it was some huge joke. One of them suggested they cut me loose but the others laughed at him and that…” Emily fingers whitened on the Rubik’s cube and she took a slow, deep breath, biting down on her lip so hard that blood started to run down her chin. “And that’s when they cut the zip ties on my ankles and stuck the broken bottle up… there.” She laughed bitterly. “Bet you don’t want me now, do you?”  
“Whatever they did to you with those bottles, Emily, you are still a virgin, and yes, I do still want you.” Gerard stroked her arm. “What happened next?”  
“They threw me in the back of the bed of a pickup and taped a plastic bag over my head, and… and I thought I was going to die, I did, and some of them wanted to hold me down until I was dead but the others said no, my wrists were tied and it didn’t matter whether they held me or not, so they might as well save themselves some time and get going. They argued for a while and my vision started to grey out at the edges, so I just slowly stopped struggling like I was getting weaker, and then I lay still and pretended to die. I heard them laughing and then they started driving, and I scraped the bag against a rough edge on the truck and made a small hole so I could breathe.”  
“You’re a very resourceful young lady, Emily,” said Gerard quietly.  
“Then…” Emily took another breath. “Then they drove and drove and drove and when they stopped, we were miles out of town, and when they came to grab me I went limp and pretended I was dead, and they grabbed me by the ankles, tossed me out, and drove off and left me at the side of the road.”  
Gerard nodded. “And how did you find your way back?”  
“I… I rubbed my face against the road until the bag was in the shreds, and I kicked off the shoes and started to stagger along the road with blood pouring down my legs. It hurt so, so much but I had to keep going and I followed the telephone lines, because the more lines there are the closer you are to the main exchange, and the closer you are to a town.”  
“Wow.” Gerard shook his head. “I never knew that.”  
“Anyway, after a while I found a house, and I banged and banged and banged on the door until they opened it, and then the husband swore and the wife hurried me inside and gave me her robe and called 911, and the police and the EMTs came. I told them everything, not that it helped.”  
Gerard raised his eyebrows. “They didn’t get prosecuted?”  
Emily looked at him in disbelief. “It was the entire starting roster of the UPenn football team! All that happened was that the hospital stitched me up, put some antibacterial cream on the scrapes on my face from rubbing it against the asphalt, and sent me home to live with it. They told me not to play it so rough next time, because they were seeing all kinds of Fifty Shades crap coming into the ER now and they were sick of having to deal with the aftermath.” She started to cry harder, burying her face in the side of his neck. “I never went back to Wharton. I never even called my old roommate again. I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t face what they might be thinking and saying about me, and whether… whether they were still laughing…”  
“Oh, Emily…” Gerard bit his lip and hugged her tightly. “I’m so, so sorry that had to happen, and that the ER behaved that way. Remember, though, that the only reason you survived is because you made it happen. It wasn’t luck. You tore the hole in the bag. You shredded it enough that you could breathe well enough to move. You followed the telephone lines and you walked and walked and walked until you found someone who could help you.” He kissed the top of her head again. “Do you remember what I wrote on your hand that first time, Emily?”  
Emily pulled away and nodded, wiping her eyes. “You said it wasn’t my fault.”  
“And it still isn’t.” He looked at her carefully. “Do you believe me?”  
“I want to.” Emily looked down. “Sometimes I do.” She managed a smile. “More and more I do.”  
“I’m glad.” Gerard gently wiped the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. “And despite all of that, the fact you’re still brave enough to take up the weekend pass the second it’s offered is admirable.”  
“Well… you’ll be with me.” Emily smiled. “I know that if I did see any of them, you’d beat the crap out of them.”  
“I’d do more than that, I’d kill them.” A dark look crossed Gerard’s face, and in that moment Emily had no doubt that he actually meant it. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m going to sign off on your weekend pass, and at 5pm on Friday I’ll drive you to the halfway house-“  
“I don’t want to go to the halfway house.”  
“…You want to go to your parents’ house?” Gerard looked doubtful. “Because you told me you were estranged, and this may not be the best time to-“  
“No, Gerard.” Emily smiled shyly at him. “I’ve never seen Ocean City before. I think I’d quite like to go.”  
A smile spread across Gerard’s face. “Are you saying you want to come home with me?”  
Emily smiled back. “Yes.”

At one second past midnight the next morning, Emily was woken by a soft rap at her door. She rubbed her eyes and climbed out of bed, yawning as she made her way across the floor. “Hello?” She opened it a crack and peered out, and her hand flew to her messy topknotted hair. “Oh God.”  
“Hi, Emily.” Gerard grinned at her from the hallway, wearing green plaid pyjamas and his hated labcoat. “I switched on-call shifts with Hamilton because I wanted to be the very first to wish you a happy birthday.”  
“Oh wow.” Emily shook her head in disbelief. “I’m 22 today.”  
“You’re 22 today.” Gerard smiled and his hand brushed hers for a second. “And I love you.”  
Emily smiled back. “I love you too.”

Two minutes later, the coma patient in the next room coded.


	10. 10

“Miss May, your carriage awaits.” Gerard grinned at her from the doorway of her room and bowed courteously. “And by carriage, I mean ancient car that belches soot and is barely younger than I am.”  
Emily laughed and picked up her brown leather holdall. She’d asked her roommate to drop off some of her clothes and toiletries at the front desk and to put her address down as where she’d be staying, and it felt good to be out of the scrubs and in her regular clothes again. “How far is it to drive?”  
“About a half hour by the parkway, but since the day is gorgeous I thought we could have the roof open. Having the roof open on the parkway is hideous, but there’s a nice smaller road I use.” Gerard took her holdall from her as they left the hospital building and walked towards the car park. “Now, like I told you, my house is-“  
“What happened with the coma patient last night?” Emily asked. “Is he OK?”  
“Oh. Yeah, he’s fine. Aunt still won’t sign the DNR.” Gerard rolled his eyes. “He’s in the main ICU for a couple of days and then he’ll be back with us in 230 like nothing ever happened.”  
Emily frowned. “It seemed so weird though, I mean, he was fine, and then-“  
“Happens all the time.” Gerard looked at her sympathetically. “He’s not just sleeping, Emily. He’s so deeply unconscious he doesn’t even react to pain. He has no meaningful life. His tendons are shortening from lack of use, and it’s made him curl into the foetal position.” He shook his head. “We’re going to have two more in his room next week too. Failed attempts that left the patients comatose. It’s sad that their families can’t see it really would be kinder to just let them go.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, this is my car.” Gerard held open the passenger door for her and she blushed. “It’s not much, but most of the time it works.” He loaded her holdall into the back and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Still okay with Ocean City?”  
Emily smiled. “Fantastic with Ocean City.”  
“Well then.” He glanced around and pulled her in for a deep kiss. “Let’s get going, birthday girl.” He put the car in gear, looked both ways, and pulled out onto the road. “I hope you like Italian food, because that’s what I made.”  
“You COOKED?” Emily’s mouth fell open. “Gerard, you didn’t have to go to all that trouble!”  
“Well, technically, my mother cooked.” Gerard went red. “I just drove up to her house to pick it all up.”  
“That’s so sweet.” Emily put her hand on his arm. “I can’t believe you’d do that for me.”  
“Nothing I could possibly do would be enough for you, Emily.” Gerard raised an eyebrow. “As a warning, you’re the first girl I’ve ever mentioned, and she wants to meet you. That woman will hunt you down now that she knows about you.”  
“We still have Sunday,” said Emily shyly. “I don’t mind if she wants to meet me.”  
Gerard’s mouth fell open. “You don’t mind spending the day with my Irish-Italian mother?!”  
“No, I’d like to.” Emily smiled. “If she wants to, you know.”  
“Well, sure.” Gerard was shaking his head in amazement. “I’ll take you to meet my mother.”  
Emily couldn’t stop smiling. “I can’t believe… I can’t believe you’d tell your mother about me. I can’t believe you’d introduce me to your mother. I know how much you love her.”  
Gerard looked at her in surprise. “Of course I would.” He took her hand and squeezed it, entwining his fingers with hers and lifting it to his lips to kiss it. “I love you, Emily. I can’t quite believe it, but I do.”  
“Learning to love is hard and we pay dearly for it. It takes hard work and a long apprenticeship, for it is not just for a moment that we must learn to love, but forever.” Emily grinned.  
“Dostoevsky. Another beautiful choice.” Gerard squeezed her hand.  
“And another wonderful inscription.” Emily leaned over and kissed his cheek.  
Gerard started to stroke her hand with his thumb. “And tomorrow, Miss May, I am going to take you on a proper, real date, with dancing and everything.” He grinned. “Which reminds me…” He pulled out his cellphone and dialled a number. “Hello? Alfonso? It’s Gerard. I need a nice formal dress. Something truly, utterly stunning. No high necklines either.” He paused. “No, not for me, you idiot, for a young lady I’m taking out.” He paused again and looked her up and down. “About a size 4 I think, 5 feet and 3 inches tall, and size 6 shoe. She has long red hair that shines copper and gold in the light, and lovely emerald green eyes that glow when she laughs, and the most stunning white porcelain skin-“ He stopped. “Alfonso, I’m going to have to leave you there, because if I get a hard-on when I’m driving she’s going to laugh at me. Can you have it at my house by six tomorrow? Just put it and the shoes on my account. Jessica’s great at picking out shoes, ask her. Get her to do accessories and shit like that too.” He paused again. “Yes, of course I’m getting Anouchka over too, what kind of savage do you think I am?” He winked at Emily. “She does my eyebrows.”  
Emily barely stifled a laugh. “Gerard, this is really too much-“  
“Emily, it really is not.” Gerard smiled gently at her. “I love you. I want to do something wonderful for you on your weekend out, so tomorrow we’ll go to the amusement parks and then to a formal dance, but tonight…” He gave her a meaningful look. “Tonight is just us.”  
Emily felt a tingle of excitement. Against her better judgement, she’d taken Irene aside for advice the day before, but the kind of gymnastics she’d described sounded more terrifying than sexy, so she was even more nervous than before. She wasn’t even sure Gerard would want her after he had heard what had been done to her with the bottle, after hearing the description of being stitched up. She knew he’d seen the medical reports, and she was afraid he wouldn’t want to touch something like that. He was used to normal women, undamaged women, dozens of more experienced women, so what could a Frankenstein of a 22 year old virgin have to attract him? They’d made all these wonderful plans, but… but what if he took one look at the scarred mess she had down there and dumped her back at the institution? Emily bit her lip, trying not to cry.  
“Emily?” Gerard was looking at her with concern. “We’re home. Are you OK?”  
Tears started to run down her face as she looked at the pretty little brightly-painted house in front of them. She could hear the sound of the ocean, see the sandy beach behind it. That’s his home. That’s where he lives, and he’s brought me here. Now that she was here, it all seemed so much more real.  
“I… I…” Emily swallowed. “I’m scared you won’t want me.”  
He reached out and stroked her cheek. “Of course I want you, Emily.”  
Emily looked at him. “But… why?”  
“Because you’re… you’re…” Gerard just shrugged and broke into a smile. “Because you’re you.”  
Emily stared at him for a second, and then grabbed his collar and pulled him in to kiss her. “Take me upstairs, Gerard. Now. I don’t want to wait until after dinner.”  
His eyebrows shot up. “Are you-“  
“Sure? Yes.” Emily kissed him again, and then Gerard was scrambling out of the car and running around to her side, opening the door and scooping her out of the seat and into his arms. She started laughing as he struggled with the house key. “Gerard, you don’t need to-“  
“But I’m going to.” He managed to get the door open, carried her into the house, and kicked it shut behind them. “God, Emily, you have no idea how long I’ve thought about this…”  
“Really?” Emily was genuinely amazed.  
“Yes, really.” He kissed her gently, then harder and harder as they reached his bedroom. “Do you want me to-“  
“I don’t know.” Emily was suddenly struck with stage fright. “I don’t know what to do.”  
She heard him laugh quietly to himself. “Don’t worry, I do.” He kissed her again. “I’ll show you.”  
Emily began to kiss him tentatively, then more confidently as he laid her on his bed and pulled off her shirt. She yanked down the knot of his tie and threw it over his head, ripping open his shirt and kicking off her shoes as he shrugged it off. She reached up and grabbed him, pulling him down to kiss her and press his bare skin against hers, wrapping her arms tightly around him as he undid the waistband of her jeans and pushed them down. “Do I-“  
“I’ve got this.” Gerard pulled off his suit trousers and threw them on the ground with her jeans, and then stopped, looked down at her and smiled. “Emily, are you-“  
“I’m fine.” She smiled back and he stroked the side of her face, flicking open the back of her bra and tossing it on the bed behind them as he carefully climbed on top of her. “What do I do now?”  
Gerard grinned. “Well, generally I find undergarments like these get in the way.” He gestured at his boxer shorts and her panties.  
“Oh, yeah.” Emily blushed bright red and he laughed and kissed her gently, then more and more deeply as she lifted her hips for him to finally slip off her panties and slide his hand between her legs. “Oh, Gerard, that feels good…”  
“Mmm, it does?” He moved his fingers faster and she gasped, then winced as he eased one finger inside her. “Emily?”  
“Yes, I’m OK, I’m OK…” Emily was thrusting her hips upwards against his fingers, the now familiar feelings of pleasure taking on a more intense sensation as he pushed another finger inside her. “Oh Christ, Gerard, that feels fantastic, that feels so good…”  
“Emily, I have thought about this for so long…” He kept moving his fingers as she gasped his name over and over, finally slipping off his boxer shorts and hugging her close, carefully spreading her legs. “Are you OK?”  
“I’m… oh, oh God, yes, yes, I am…” Emily was fighting off the urge to scream as the sensations pulsed harder and harder through her. “Oh, oh Gerard, oh God…” She felt him start to push gently against her and cried out. “Oh CHRIST, GERARD!”  
“Still good?” Gerard grinned at her.  
“Oh yes, oh God, oh, oh, OH, keep going, KEEP GOING, OH OH OH-“ Emily threw back her head and screamed as she came hard, her body arching against his, and then she gasped as he slowly moved forward and pushed inside her. “Oh…wow. WOW.” She almost laughed, a smile spreading across her face. “This feels… this feels DIFFERENT…”  
Gerard wasn’t sure if that was a great endorsement. “…you mean…GOOD different?”  
Emily kissed him gently. “WONDERFUL different.” She slid her hands up his body and cradled the sides of his face, arching her head back as he kissed her neck and throat, burying her face in his hair as he kissed her chest.  
“Oh, Emily, Emily, Emily…” His mouth was back on hers, one hand between her legs and the other in her hair, kissing her more and more frantically as she stroked his face. “Emily, I love you, God, I love you, I do, I’ve never loved anyone before but I do…”  
“Mmmmm, I love you too, oh God, Gerard, this is so good, I… I feel so good, I feel so close to you, oh God…” The warm pleasure feeling was spreading out again, faster this time, and she thrust her hips up against him, clinging to his back. “Oh, oh this is wonderful…”  
He smiled, looking down into her eyes as he kissed her. “You’re wonderful.”  
Emily hugged his body as tightly as she could, pressing her forehead against his and breathing more and more heavily. “Oh, oh, oh, oh my God, oh Jesus, oh this feels so GOOD!” The feelings were pounding heavier and heavier through her and she could barely breathe. “Oh Gerard, oh my God…”  
“Emily, please tell me you’re close…” Gerard could feel his legs start to shake, aware that this was embarrassingly fast. Baseball. Baseball, Gerard. Think of baseball.  
“I am, I am, oh, oh…” Emily was teetering on the edge, then suddenly felt herself cascade over it, waves of intense pleasure pouring over her as she screamed Gerard’s name, hearing him breathe her name over and over in her ear as he came himself. “Oh Gerard… oh, that was amazing, I’d never imagined…” Emily was shaking her head.  
“Emily, that was so special… Gerard was gasping for breath and stroking her face. “I mean, I’ve done it before, you know I have, but… never like that. It’s never been like that.” He leaned down and kissed her. “Thank you for trusting me.”  
“Thank you for loving me.” Emily kissed him gently, running her hands through his hair. “I didn’t think anyone ever could.”  
Gerard smiled, kissed her forehead and rolled onto his back, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. “I can’t see how anyone couldn’t.”


	11. 11

“Good morning, Emily.” Emily felt Gerard kiss her cheek and she snuggled down further under the blankets. “Come on, wake up…”  
“Mmmm…” Emily finally opened her eyes. “What time is it?”  
“Ten.” Gerard smiled. “I made pancakes.”  
“I see that.” Emily sat up, rubbing her eyes as he set a tray on her lap with pancakes, strawberries, orange juice, and a single dark red devotion rose in a vase. “This is so sweet, Gerard. You didn’t have to do this.”  
“I wanted to.” He climbed back into bed and kissed her. “How are you feeling?”  
“A little bit sore,” admitted Emily reluctantly. “But…” She looked at him and smiled. “But I’m still glad it happened.”  
“Me too.” He smiled again and stroked the side of her face. “I have something for you. I was going to give it to you last night, but we were… well, otherwise occupied.” He grinned and handed her a large flat velvet box. “I had it made for you, for your birthday. I hope you like it.”  
Emily bit her lip and opened it. “Oh my God, Gerard, this is too much…”  
“It’s not.” He kissed her and pointed at the white gold necklace. “It’s on a thin chain, so you’ll be allowed to wear it in the institution, and I designed it with a sunflower on it because you said it’s your favourite flower. See, the petals are long oval-cut yellow diamonds, and the dark centre is a piece of meteorite I picked up when I was small. It literally travelled hundreds of millions of miles from space to get here, just for me. Just for you." He stroked her cheek. "The swirls around the flower are yellow gold and white diamonds.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “It’s a locket. Open it.”  
Emily took a deep breath and flicked open the clasp, then gasped. “Gerard, is that-“  
“Yeah, I had the guy who made it engrave my fingerprint inside it.” He blushed. “I know it’s corny, but-“  
Emily pulled him in and kissed him deeply. “It’s perfect.” She smiled. “Now I just need a photograph of us together to stick to the other side.”  
“Maybe we can get one taken of us tonight.” Gerard broke into a broad smile and carefully eased the necklace out of the box. “Lift up your hair so I can put it on you.”  
Emily obediently gathered up her long red hair and held it up while he fastened the clasp, running his fingers down the chain to the locket as it rested on her chest. “Thank you, Gerard. It’s… it’s lovely.”  
“It’s beautiful on you,” he murmured, leaning in and kissing her gently. “I love you.”  
“I love you too.” Emily took a bite of the pancakes. “Gerard, these pancakes are really good.”  
“My mother bought me a pancake iron.” Gerard laughed. “I admit it. I can’t cook. It’s all takeout food and things I can heat in the microwave.” He picked a strawberry off her tray and popped it in his mouth. “God, I hope you cook, Emily, or we’re both going to starve.”  
“Luckily for us, I do cook.” She squeezed his hand and then went back to wolfing down the pancakes. “Wow, I didn’t realise how hungry I was…”  
“If I had to live off that hospital food I’d be hungry too.” Gerard reached for another strawberry and she smacked his hand away. “You know, Emily, if we’re going to play rough we should really have a safe word.”  
“Shut up, Gerard.” Emily laughed and took a bite out of a strawberry. “Last night, Gerard… last night was so special. I’m so happy…” She smiled gently and stroked his face. “I’m so glad it was you. You were so kind and gentle about it…” Emily smiled. “You made it so special for me.”  
“It WAS special.” Gerard was shaking his head, still looking surprised. “I’ve… never experienced anything like it. For all the women, all the things I’ve done… and believe me, I've tried EVERYTHING-"  
Emily put her hand over his mouth and gave him a look. "I don't need details of your sexual exploits, Gerard."  
"Oh, yeah." Gerard turned red. "Anyway, Emily what I'm trying to say is... I... I’ve never felt anything like the way I did with you. It felt… new. Different.” He smiled.  
Emily hesitated. “Is that a good thing?”  
Gerard laughed softly and kissed her. “It’s a wonderful thing.” He stretched out on the bed next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “So, what do you want to do today?”  
“I want to… I want to go on all the cheesy rides, and play carnival games, and eat hot dogs and ice cream and hang around on the boardwalk…” Emily’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I want to do all the things I wasn’t allowed to do because they were unbecoming to a May debutante like me.”  
“Well then, Emily, that is what we are going to do.” Gerard moved her empty tray onto the floor and she rolled onto her side, resting her head on his chest as he stroked her hair. “Although you might have to hold my hand on the scarier rollercoasters.”  
Emily grinned and snuggled in closer to him. “I’m sure I can manage that.”  
Gerard smiled, wrapping his arm more tightly around her back and leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I love you so much, Emily.”  
Emily sighed contentedly, her thumb tracing circles on his skin. “I love you too.”

“Gerard, this is so much fun!” Emily was practically bouncing along the boardwalk as they walked hand in hand, her locket cool against her chest. “I’m not a pity case, I’m not a crazy person, I’m not a South Jersey May… I’m just ME!”  
Gerard laughed, trying to hide the fact he was still slightly nauseated from the last rollercoaster. “Yes you are, Emily.” He squeezed her hand. “And you’re perfect.”  
Emily rolled her eyes. “I’m not.” She looked at him, raising her eyebrows. “So what else do you like to do, Gerard? I know you like to draw, and paint, and read, and play croquet… is there anything else?”  
“Well, I like music, and I used to drift between bands in college, but that kind of died down when I graduated. Med school took up almost all my time, especially because I did a PhD in abnormal psychology as well.” Gerard shrugged. “I used to sing a lot, but it’s been a very long time.”  
“Hey, one of the guys on the ward, Frank, he plays guitar, so maybe when he gets out-“  
“Emily, Frank is never going to get out,” said Gerard bluntly. “He came to us from a maximum security institution along with the guy in the coma. The best he can hope for is minimum security with no walls or gates.”  
Emily’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God, Gerard, what did he DO?”  
“I can’t tell you. Doctor-patient confidentiality.” Gerard looked at the floor. “You won’t find his name in any articles either. It was a long time ago. He and the coma guy were so young they were referred to as Boy A and Boy B. I know I’m meant to remain detached as a psychiatrist, but sometimes the look on his face when he describes what he did makes my stomach turn.”  
“Oh God… I kissed him…” Emily looked horrified. “I thought he was a nice guy…”  
“Emily, please don’t let it bother you.” Gerard tightened his grip on her hand. “You’re not with him any more. You’re with me. Besides, you’re out. You’re on the boardwalk, and you’re not a pity case, and you’re not a crazy person, and you’re not a South Jersey May.” He grinned. “You’re you.”  
She looked at Gerard and smiled, touching the locket around her neck. “And I’m with you…”  
“And you’re with me.” Gerard stopped walking and wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her in for a deep kiss. “Emily… I just wanted you to know that I’m not protective of you because you can’t protect yourself. Don’t worry about Frank, or about any of the other patients. You’ll be OK. You can look after yourself just fine.” He stroked her face and kissed her again. “I’m protective of you because I love you. I’m protective of you because… because you’re important to me. Because I can’t imagine a life without you.”  
“I know.” Emily rested her head on his shoulder, running her hands up and down his back. “But I never feel safer than I do when I’m with you. I wish I could just stay with you like this forever.”  
“Me too.” Gerard smiled and kissed her forehead, hugging her tightly. “I love you, Emily.”  
Emily looked up at his face and smiled. “I love you too.”  
Gerard cleared his throat. “What you said outside my house yesterday, that you were scared I wouldn’t want you… you make me so happy, Emily. You’re all I think about. Your face, your eyes, your smile, how soft your skin feels when I touch it… all I want is you, so don’t EVER think I won’t want you.”  
Emily snorted. “I’m a mess.”  
Gerard laughed gently. “So am I, and I’m meant to be a psychiatrist.”  
“Gerard, I don’t care.” Emily smiled and stroked his face. “I love you. I’ve known I loved you for months, ever since that day with the cats, watching you smile to yourself while you were feeding them out of your hand and petting them.” Emily kissed him gently. “Do you remember that?”  
Gerard nodded silently, feeling his eyes tear up. Shit.  
“Well, that was it for me. That was when I knew.” Emily cradled the sides of his face in her hands. “You’re all I want too, Gerard. I think you’re all I’ll ever want. I love you so, so much.”  
Gerard smiled. “I love you too. I knew the first time I met you. I know that sounds like crap, but it’s true.” He kissed her hard, feeling her wrap her arms around his waist and pull him in closer. “Hey… want to go make out on the Dante’s Dungeon ride? I mean, if you’re not too scared…”  
“Oh no, Gerard, I think you’re the one who’s scared.” Emily grinned as they walked towards the entrance to the ride. “And after that, we’re going on the Great White and the Nor’Easter. No arguments.”  
“I bet you scream.” Gerard raised an eyebrow.  
Emily laughed. “I bet you scream louder.”


	12. 12

Emily took a last bite of her chocolate souffle. “You know, Gerard, I thought you were kidding about Anouchka doing your eyebrows.”  
“Well, you were busy getting your hair put up with that lovely peacock comb by her assistant, and she wouldn’t let me anywhere near you while you were getting your makeup applied, so I had to do something.” Gerard grinned and sat back in his chair. “And my eyebrows were already getting a bit untidy, don’t you think?”  
Emily smiled. “I think you look very handsome.” Although somehow he still managed to look scruffy in full-on black tie.  
He leaned in and kissed her behind her ear, feeling her heart beat beneath her skin. “You just want me for my money.”  
“Gerard, I still don’t understand how you seem to HAVE money.” Emily shook her head. “You have this beachfront house, you design me diamond necklaces, these diamond studs you gave me have to be at least a carat each, you got me this beautiful gown with all the accessories in a single day, you even got yourself a bow tie in exactly the same navy blue fabric, but- you’re only 30, you have to have med school loans, and you’re not nearly old enough to be making serious doctor money-“  
“I was the beneficiary of a big medical malpractice suit when I was a child.” Gerard looked at his hands. “Negligence. A state mental institution gave my depressed father the wrong meds, and he tried to hang himself after a week. Even though he had been admitted on suicide watch, no one checked on him for over an hour, and by the time someone did, he had so much brain damage that he spent the next twenty years in a vegetative state until he finally died. I spent two decades visiting him once a week and watching him suffering because no one would just do the right thing.” He shook his head. “I was seven. My mother sued, got awarded eight figures by a jury who saw her sitting with a crying child in the front row of the court every day, and she put all of it in a trust for me. I barely touched it except to buy my house, because I love the sea, my father… my father always loved the sea, and then…” He looked at her and smiled softly. “And then I met you, and I found something worth spending it on.”  
Emily bit her lip and fidgeted with the cap sleeve on her dress. “I’m so sorry, Gerard. I shouldn’t have asked. It wasn’t my business.”  
“I’m glad you did. It is your business, and I should have told you sooner.” He stroked the side of her face. “They won’t let you keep those studs on in the institution, but I’ll keep them safe for you at the house until you come home.”  
“Home?” Emily’s mouth fell open. “You want me to come back and live with you when I’m out?”  
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Gerard raised his eyebrows. “If that’s what you want.”  
“It is.” Emily broke into a wide smile. “I can’t think of anything I’d want more.”  
“There’s something else I wanted to mention.” Gerard cleared his throat. “I’m recommending your release from the institution, Emily.”  
Emily’s face lit up. “You are?”  
“Yes.” He smiled and kissed her. “I don’t think you’re dangerous to yourself, or anyone else. I don’t think you ever were, not really.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I know, Emily. I know why you drank the morphine.”  
Emily stared at him. “You know what’s wrong with me?”  
“Yes. You were depressed, anxious, you had PTSD. The constant stress overloaded the fight or flight in your brain and sent your nervous system into overdrive, triggering something called fibromyalgia, as if you didn’t have enough to deal with.” Gerard took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “You didn’t want to kill yourself. When you said you drank it because you hurt, you were telling me the truth. Fibromyalgia is excruciating. The gabapentin is why it doesn’t hurt any more. It’s for nerve pain. If you stay on that, the xanax, the antidepressants? I think you’ll be just fine.”  
“I…” Emily swallowed back tears. “I’ve never lied to you, Gerard, not once.”  
“I know.” He kissed her again. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you the first time, Emily. I should have, but I was too self-centred to see it.”  
“It was your job, Gerard.” Emily stroked his arm. “I probably would have jumped to the same conclusion.”  
Gerard shook his head. “But I should have-“  
“Gerard.” Emily squeezed his hand gently. “I understand.”  
He bit his lip. “I don’t deserve you, Emily.”  
“Gerard, I’m a psychiatric inpatient on a weekend pass.” Emily grinned.  
“And you’re perfect.” Gerard smiled at her. “Come on, let’s dance. I want to show you off to everyone here.”  
Emily laughed and let him lift her to her feet. “I love you, Gerard.”  
He smiled and pulled her in for a deep kiss. “I love you too.”  
“Photograph?” One of the event photographers appeared.  
“Sure.” Gerard put his arm around Emily’s waist and she laid her head on his shoulder, smiling as the camera flashed. “There you go, Emily. One for your locket.”  
“You can pick it up by the entrance on your way out. Eight wallet size, two 7x5, one 8x10.” The photographer handed Gerard a ticket. “Order 791.” He looked Emily up and down appreciatively. “You look stunning, miss.”  
Emily felt Gerard’s arm tighten around her waist possessively. “I know she does.”  
The photographer took the hint and vanished off into the crowd.  
“Gerard.” Emily grabbed his hand. "The band is playing the Moonlight Sonata. Dance with me.”  
“You like Beethoven?” Gerard put his hand on the small of her back as they reached the dance floor, pulling her close and holding her hand.  
“No, but I love this song.” Emily smiled up at him and laid her head against his chest.  
“I learn something new about you every day.” Gerard squeezed her hand. “And I love you more every day.”  
“I was never insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.” Emily grinned mischievously.  
Gerard laughed. “Poe. An apt choice given how we met.”  
“You know, a lot of people believe you cannot truly play this song without knowing real love.” Emily stroked the side of his face.  
Gerard raised his eyebrows. “Do you agree with them?”  
“Since I met you… I see it.” Emily kissed him and smiled. “You dance very well.”  
“I went to a college that had a lot of formal events.” Gerard kissed the top of her head. “You dance very well too.”  
Emily laughed. “I’m a debutante, I’ve had cotillion formal dancing drilled into my head since I was a kid.” She kissed the side of his neck. “Thank you for bringing me here, Gerard.”  
“Thank you for being here with me, Emily.” He pulled her closer, the sequinned lace overlay of her dress skimming out behind her. “Even if you did skip over a lot of the extortionately priced food, and then ate all of my chocolate souffle before I even got a bite of it.”  
“We’ll have to get takeout after this, then.” He felt her smile against his skin. “Takeout and microwave meals, right?”  
Gerard smiled. “Takeout and microwave meals.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Emily.”  
She looked up at him. “I love you too.” She grinned and laid her head back against his shoulder. “Almost as much as I loved your souffle.”  
“Well, it’s nice to be appreciated.” Gerard laughed softly and started to stroke the small of her back with his thumb as they moved slowly on the dance floor.  
“Mmmmm.” Emily’s eyes were closed. “I never want tonight to end.”  
“Neither do I.” He stroked her hair.

Emily was asleep beside him in the car when he finally pulled into the driveway of his house. “Emily? We’re home.”  
“…we are?” Emily frowned and opened her eyes. “How long was I asleep?”  
“About an hour.” Gerard smiled. “Don’t worry. You’re adorable when you sleep.” He walked around to her side of the car, opened the door, and carefully scooped her out into his arms. “Come on, I’ll take you upstairs.”  
“Mmmmm, I love you…” Emily was almost asleep again by the time they got to his room.  
“I love you too.” Gerard kissed her forehead, eased off her shoes, and tucked her into bed. Alfonso would kill him if he knew he was letting her sleep in one of his formal gowns. He quietly got undressed, slipping on a new pair of boxer shorts and a faded T-shirt, and climbed into bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist and taking her hand in his. Emily sighed contentedly and snuggled back against him in her sleep, stroking his hand with her thumb, and he smiled, kissed her cheek, and tucked his chin over her shoulder, tightening his arms around her waist and breathing in the scent of her skin as he drifted off to sleep.

He felt her stirring early the next morning. “Emily?”  
“Gerard? What time is it?” She sat up and looked down at herself. “Why am I still in my gown?”  
He smiled. “You fell asleep in the car on the way home, so I carried you up here and tucked you into bed. I tried my best not to wake you.”  
“Oh, that’s so sweet…” Emily yawned and went to rub her eyes, but then remembered her eye makeup. “Oh no, is my face a mess? Do I look like a scary clown?”  
Gerard burst out laughing and sat up. “No, Emily, you do not look like a scary clown. You look…" He bit his lip and stroked her face. "You look beautiful.”  
“I…” Emily leaned in and kissed him, throwing the covers down off herself and raising an eyebrow at him. “Gerard, you know, I think I’m going to need you to help me out of this dress.” She grinned. “Do you think you can do that?”  
Gerard stared. “Oh, hell yes.”  
Emily smiled and got out of bed, standing with her back to him. Gerard crawled forward and kissed the back of her neck, feeling her shiver as he slowly pulled down the zip of the gown, kissing his way down her spine. He got up and stood and in front of her, kissing down the front of her throat and her chest, easing the gown down to her ankles and kissing every inch of skin as it slid off. Emily was breathing heavily, her breath hitching as he kissed her inner thighs and carried on down her legs, kissing each foot as he lifted them free of the heavy silk. He stood up and teased the peacock comb out of her hair, letting the long red waves fall to her bare shoulders as he pulled her in and kissed her deeply. He kissed her jaw and down the side of her neck, unhooked her bra and kissed her breasts, moving downward and flicking his tongue into her navel. She gasped and started to shiver, then suddenly put her hand down and stopped him when he got to her panties. “No, Gerard. Don’t look. Please don’t look.”  
“Emily, every inch of you is beautiful.” He smiled gently and traced a finger up her thigh and between her legs, hearing her breath catch. “But if you don’t want me to, I won’t.”  
“I… I…” Emily bit her lip. “Yes, Gerard. I want you to. I want you to do it.”  
He raised his eyebrows, his fingers still tracing around her panties. “Are you absolutely sure?”  
“Yes.” Emily nodded, her breathing getting heavier and heavier. “Yes, take them off. Now.”  
Gerard smiled, eased her back onto the bed and began to kiss her through her panties, stroking her through the thin cotton with his thumb as he brushed his mouth and tongue against her. Emily felt her hips start to push up against his face and bit down harder on her lip. “Oh God, Gerard, take them off, take them off…” She reached down to push them down herself and he grabbed her hand away and clasped it tightly in his, entwining his fingers with hers. She let out a cry of frustration. “Please, Gerard, this feels so good, please, take them off, don’t you know what you’re doing to me?”  
Gerard laughed quietly. “I know exactly what I’m doing to you…” He spread her thighs and kissed her through her panties, slipping his fingers inside, and she screamed and thrust her hips upwards, her hands tightening into claws and wrinkling the sheets of the bed. He finally took hold of the hemline of her panties and eased them down, and Emily fell silent as he paused, and then smiled, leaned in and kissed her between her legs, licking and stroking as she started to pant and moan, breathing faster and faster.  
“Oh Gerard, oh my God, oh my God…” Emily felt him start to rub back and forth with his thumb and gasped, her body tensing and a hot rush beginning to radiate up through her body. “Oh God, oh GOD, OH GERARD…” He started to press his lips harder against her as he kissed her, slipping his fingers into her, and the sensation intensified until it was overpowering. “Oh sweet God, oh Jesus, oh Jesus, OH MY GOD, GERARD, OH-“ Emily’s whole body arched as she came, every muscle contracting and shuddering as her legs collapsed untidily onto the bed, her face red and flushed. “Oh Gerard… oh… oh, that was…”  
“I told you, Emily… every part of you is beautiful to me.” Gerard climbed onto the bed with her and smiled gently. “Do you want-“  
“Yes.” Emily yanked his T shirt off and pulled him on top of her as he shoved his boxer shorts down to his ankles and kicked them off, and then he was stroking the side of her face and pushing forward inside of her, the same smile breaking across her face as she hugged him close. “Oh wow… oh wow… I will never get used to this…”  
Gerard smiled at her and kissed her deeply, cradling the sides of her face in his hands. “Emily…”  
“Oh yes, oh yes, oh, that feels GOOD…” Emily kept kissing him, at first slowly and then more and more frantically as jolts of pleasure spread through her body. “I love you, Gerard, oh God, I love you…”  
“I love you too…” Gerard pressed his forehead against hers, her breath in his mouth as their lips brushed together. “Emily, you will always be beautiful to me…”  
“Gerard, oh Gerard…” Emily looked closely into his eyes as she kissed him, her hands stroking his back. “Oh, yes, keep doing that, keep doing that…” She was breathing almost as hard as he was, thrusting her hips upwards. “Does that feel good?”  
“Oh God, yes, Emily, you feel good, you feel fantastic…” Gerard pressed his body as hard as he could against hers, her hands grabbing at his hair. “I love feeling this close to you…”  
“Oh yes, so do I…” Emily felt Gerard began to kiss her throat and she buried her face in his hair, breathing in his familiar scent with a smile. “Oh, you smell so good…”  
She heard him laugh quietly. “I need a shower.”  
“Oh, I don’t care, I don’t care…” Emily stroked his face, running her hands up and down his body. “Oh, that feels so GOOD!”  
“Tell me you’re close, Emily…” Gerard was determined to hang on longer than he had the first time, but he could feel himself beginning to tremble as she ran her hands across his back. “Please, Emily, tell me you’re close, oh God…”  
Emily was being overcome by intense waves of pleasure, her body trembling. “Oh Gerard, oh, I’m so close, please…” Gerard slipped his hand under her lower back, angling her hips, and the new sensations made her want to scream. “Oh JESUS, Gerard, how are you so good at this?!”  
“Is that better?” Gerard was kissing her hard, her tongue in his mouth and his fingers tightening in her hair.  
“Yes, yes, yes…” Emily’s eyes were hazy and she was gasping louder and louder, her whole body shaking. “Oh yes, yes it is…”  
“Oh my God, Emily, you feel so good…” Gerard’s whole body was shaking now. “Emily, please…”  
“Oh Gerard…” Emily’s hands were clawing at his back, her head arching back into the pillows. “Oh Gerard, oh God, oh, OH, OH-“  
Gerard leaned down and kissed her as she came hard against him, her arms clamping down on his back and her body arching into him as he finally came himself with a loud cry. "Emily, Emily, Emily..." He kissed her gently and pressed his forehead against hers, breathing hard. "Emily..." He kissed her again, her arms caressing his sides as he lay on top of her, still inside of her, trying to catch his breath. “Oh Emily, oh Emily, you... you... you’re so… so…” He shook his head wordlessly. “You’re perfect."  
"I love lying with you like this." Emily smiled up at him, her face flushed and sweating as she cradled his face in her hands, kissing him gently. "I will never love anyone as I love you."  
"And I could never love anyone as I love you." He smiled back and kissed her forehead, stroking her hair. “You're just... you're so... you're so YOU.”  
Emily grinned. "Is that a good thing?"  
Gerard leaned down and kissed her again and again, his hands caressing her face. "Emily... It's a perfect thing." 


	13. 13

Emily had tears running down her cheeks as Gerard drove her back to the institution on Sunday evening. She had been chatting happily with his mother all day as he cringed silently in the corner, but as time passed she had grown quieter and quieter until finally he put his hand on her shoulder and told her gently that they had to go if they were going to get back before her pass expired. She was still wearing her locket, but her diamond studs were back in their box and tucked away in the glove compartment, all her clothes packed back in the holdall except the regulation set of blue scrubs she had had to take with her when she left.  
“Emily, it’s OK.” His hand was on her knee, rubbing her leg reassuringly. “The review meeting is on Friday. You’ll be in there a week, two weeks at most. I’m your psychiatrist. I’m submitting a full report recommending your release. Unless one of the other doctors can provide a compelling reason against it, they will let you go. There is no law saying we have to hold you, not like the ones committing Frank and Irene.” He smiled at her reassuringly. “You’ll be back home in Ocean City before you know it.”  
“No.” Emily shook her head. “Not soon enough. I don’t want to go back to the hospital, Gerard. I want to go home with you.”  
Gerard sighed. “And you will, Emily, but if we don’t do this officially, the law WILL step in and we WILL have to hold you, and it could be months before you get another chance to be outside. You might even get transferred away from me to a higher security facility. Is that what you want?”  
Emily looked down at the huge tubs of tiramisu and Italian cakes that Gerard’s mother had insisted she take back with her, saying she was “far too skinny” and tutting at him for not feeding her up properly. “No.”  
“Just remember that it’s not for long, Emily. It’s not forever.” He stroked the side of her face. “And if it seems too hard, just look at that photograph inside your locket. Remember last night. Remember how much I love you.” He smiled at her. “Remember that I’m waiting for you when you get out.”  
“I know you are.” Emily managed a small smile and squeezed his hand. “I love the fingerprint the most, Gerard. I can feel it pressing against my skin through the white gold. It’s like you’re always touching me, even when you’re not.”  
Gerard grinned. “Emily, if I had the choice, I’d never take my hands off you. I can barely keep them off you at work as it is.”  
“Yeah, because shapeless blue scrubs are just so sexy.” Emily rolled her eyes.  
“On you they are.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I know of no greater happiness than to be with you all the time, without interruption, without end.”  
Emily smiled tearfully. “Kafka.”  
“Kafka.” Gerard smiled gently, and then took a deep breath. “Emily… I need to remind you that I’m not scheduled to work today. If I stay after I sign you back in, people will be suspicious, and if I get put under investigation it will delay your release.” He sighed. “After your pass is rescinded and the orderlies come to take you back to the ward… I’m going to have to turn around and leave you there.”  
Emily broke into loud sobs and he bit his lip, pulled over to the side of the road and hugged her tightly, stroking her back. “I know, Emily, I know it’s going to be hard, it’s going to be almost impossible for me too, but you’ll see me tomorrow, and we can go and sit in the gardens and talk for as long as you want. I don’t have any other patients scheduled until I see Iero at 4, so-“  
“Gerard, I need to know what Frank did. I can’t go back in there with him until I know.” Emily pulled away and looked at him. “Tell me. If I’m so important to you, tell me.”  
“I…” Gerard hesitated, and then finally nodded. “OK, Emily. Frank… when he and Michael, the coma guy, were children, they supposedly became convinced the world had been populated by evil beings planning to destroy the government by force. They broke into Frank’s father’s gun case and stole every weapon inside, murdered their entire families, and then took the guns to their elementary school the next day. They killed three whole grades full of students before the police surrounded them. Michael apparently shot himself. Frank has always claimed it was a suicide pact and his gun jammed, but I have always suspected he was the one who shot Michael, and that while Michael was under the delusion that he was surrounded by the evil beings, Frank attacked his fellow students as revenge for some perceived slight. I know he was angry at being defeated in the student president elections the week before.” He shook his head. “Michael’s head wound didn’t kill him, but it did leave him in a permanent coma. Frank, of course, emerged unscathed.”  
Emily’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my God, Gerard, how is he not in jail?”  
“He inherited a fortune from his parents and his aunt and uncle hired the best lawyers. They got him a pass on mental incapacity, and he was put in a maximum security juvenile institution until he came to us ten years ago. Believe me, Emily, I hate having him near you every day, but remember you are in a secure environment. He cannot hurt you. Keep away from him for the next week or so, and… you’ll be free. You’ll never see him again.” He kissed her and wiped the tears off her cheeks. “I love you, Emily. You are my life. If I thought you were in danger, I would hide you away for as long as I had to.”  
“I know.” Emily wiped her eyes. “And I love you too.”  
“OK.” Gerard smiled gently at her and pulled back onto the highway. “It won’t be for long, Emily. I promise.”

“Emily! I’m so happy to see you!” Joan ran up and hugged her as she walked silently back onto the ward, hearing the door slam shut and lock behind her. “I was hoping I’d be here when you came back! How was your weekend out?”  
“Great.” Emily forced a smile. “It was great. I didn’t want to come back.”  
Joan smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure. It must be really hard for-“  
“Joan, will you look at these DIAMONDS?” Irene pushed past her and grabbed Emily’s locket. “If I’d known I was going to get these, I’d have put out a lot sooner!”  
“No, they’re, uh, not real.” Emily shifted uncomfortably. “It’s just costume jewellery.”  
“She’s lying.” Sherlock barely looked up from his newspaper. “Superb colour and clarity, Miss May. Congratulations.” He fixed Joan in a glare. “Watson, I thought you were here to see ME.”  
“Wait.” Joan pushed Irene away. “You actually lost your virginity, Emily? That’s huge! Who to?”  
“A… just an old boyfriend. He’s from New York. He came to visit.” Emily looked at the floor.  
Irene snorted. “Please. It’s an open secret, Emily. Everyone knows about you and-“  
“IRENE.” Sherlock gave her a meaningful look. “Have at least some decorum. This is not the time or the place.” He paused. “Oh yes, and that reminds me. Due to a change in plans I’m going to have to reschedule our assignation in the janitorial closet for an hour later. I trust that that suits.”  
“Fine.” Irene pouted and sulked her way back to the couch.  
“How was it?” Joan was looking carefully at her. “I know you were nervous. You must have been if you went to that nut for advice.” She rolled her eyes and gestured at Irene, who scowled.  
“It was… it was fine. It was good.” Emily broke into a genuine smile. “He talked me through the whole thing, and he took it slowly, and… and he made me feel beautiful.” She blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was perfect.”  
“Well, that sounds pretty good to me.” Joan laughed. “I lost mine in the back seat of a Toyota Camry to the captain of the mathlete team. He hit his head on the door and got a concussion halfway through, so we ended our planned night of a thousand stars in the ER waiting for him to get a CT scan.”  
“I seduced my English teacher when I was fifteen.” Sherlock turned the page of his paper, sounding bored. “She was average at best.”  
“You gave it up to someone else, Emily?” Frank’s eyes looked almost black as he appeared in the doorway of his room. “You rejected me over a dozen times.”  
Emily shrank away, feeling a pang of fear. “Frank, I… I… it wasn’t you, I just needed more therapy, that’s all.” She managed to force a casual smile. “How was your weekend?”  
“It can’t have been that much more therapy.” Frank’s eyes narrowed. “You only broke up with me a month ago. Was I not good enough for you?”  
“No, it wasn’t that.” Emily swallowed nervously. “It’s not that at all, really, I just needed time-“  
“Liar.” Frank abruptly slammed the door and she heard him stalk back to his bed.  
“Well, SOMEONE’S jealous.” Irene was lying in Sherlock’s lap and examining her fingernails. “You definitely backed the right horse there, Emily.”  
“So long as she doesn’t care that her new ‘bae’ is an Angel,” muttered Sherlock darkly, flicking quickly through the sports pages.  
“Shut up, Sherlock.” Irene rolled her eyes. “Emily, it’s not you. Frank’s been acting like a total psycho all weekend.”  
Sherlock raised his eyebrows. “And coming from her, Emily, that is quite the statement.”  
Emily looked desperately at Joan. “Joan, you’re a doctor, do you know if… if I could get Frank moved to a different ward, or… or maybe me-“  
“Emily, I’m not that kind of doctor,” said Joan gently. “I don’t have privileges at this hospital, and besides, I let my licence lapse years ago. I’ll mention it to Dr Cooper and see if he can do anything, but… that’s all I can do. Just avoid him, and if he threatens you, lock yourself in your room or hit the emergency button that calls the orderlies. You’re safe here. Don’t let him bother you.”  
“Would you like me to have someone off him for you, Emily?” asked Irene casually. “Because I assure you it can be done, cleanly and efficiently. I don’t particularly care for him myself anyway.”  
“Um… no.” Emily wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “That’s fine. You don’t need to… uh… ‘off’ Frank.”  
“Well, offer’s open.” Irene went back to examining her fingernails.  
Emily cleared her throat. “I think I’m going to go lie down in my room for a while.” She faked a yawn. “I’m pretty tired.”  
“I bet you are,” muttered Irene. “I’m amazed you can even walk straight.”  
“IRENE.” Sherlock looked down at her sharply. “Leave the poor girl alone.” He smiled at Emily. “Sweet dreams, Emily. It’s amazing how much better one can feel after a quick restorative nap. I myself once solved six crimes in one go after a 15 minute doze.”  
“…Uh…” Emily hesitated. “…Congratulations?”  
Sherlock shrugged. “It was a mediocre development. I should have deduced the solutions days before.”  
Emily blinked. “Oh.” She opened the door to her room. “Anyway-“  
Irene sat up. “Wait, Emily!”  
Emily sighed and turned. “Yes?”  
Irene grinned. “Is he as good as they say he is?”  
“Yes.” Emily broke into a wide smile, fingering her locket fondly. “Yes, he is.”


	14. 14

“Ants in your pants, Emily?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her over the top of his newspaper as she fidgeted in her chair.  
“No, I have my appointment with Ger-“ Emily caught herself. “With Dr Way at nine. It’s a review of my weekend pass. I just want to make a good impression so I can go out again.”  
“Emily, you don’t have to keep up the pretence with me.” For the first time she could remember, Sherlock put down his newspaper, turning to face her with his hands folded in his lap. “And if you are to continue your association with the good doctor, I feel there is something you need to understand first.”  
“What? That he’s got a reputation as a whore? I know that.” Emily rolled her eyes. “But thanks for your concern-“  
“No, Emily.” Sherlock looked at her gently. “You may remember my referring to him as an Angel. Do you know what I mean by that?”  
“No.” Emily shook her head. “I just assumed you meant that he was a good doctor.”  
“I would agree with you that he is, Emily, but a lot of people would not, and that includes the current law in the United States.” Sherlock uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “When I became aware of your burgeoning relationship, I asked my partner Joan to ask some questionable ‘friends’ of ours to get hold of his past employment records, given his track record with Michael here. He has never worked at a hospital for more than two years at a time, and in some cases it is actually implied he has been invited to resign rather than be fired. I’m going to ask you again, Emily. Do you understand what I mean when I refer to him as an Angel?”  
“No, I don’t.” Emily had an unpleasant feeling settling in her gut. “What is it?”  
Sherlock looked at her carefully. “He’s an Angel of Death, Emily. He kills patients. If a patient is being kept alive only by life support and is in a persistent vegetative state with little to no brain activity, as his father was, he gives them a little… ‘push’.” He paused. “In fact, I believe the first person he gave this ‘push’ to WAS his own father. You mentioned to me last night how his mother told you his father had died minutes after our dear doctor visited him to tell him he had graduated medical school. She believes his father hung on for twenty years so he could see his son achieve his potential. I believe watching his father suffering for twenty years is what turned him into what he is.”  
Emily’s mouth fell open. “No, that’s not possible, Gerard is a good person-“  
“Yes he is, Emily, and I personally believe that what he does is admirable. Keeping someone alive in such a context is nothing short of human selfishness.” Sherlock smiled gently at her. “He uses only a strong overdose of benzodiazepines, and their death is quick and completely painless. However, there are a lot of people who would disagree with me, and if you are one of them, it would be remiss of me to keep it from you.”  
Emily stared at him. “You can’t prove anything.”  
“No, Emily, he has made sure of that, but believe me when I tell you it is the truth.” Sherlock cleared his throat. “I have told no one else, and I have no intention of doing so, but I felt you should know.”  
“No.” Emily shook her head. “No, that’s not possible.”  
Sherlock sighed. “Emily, I want you to understand that what he is doing is indisputably a kindness. I reviewed every file myself and these patients’ lives WERE truly defined only by suffering. He does not do it out of malice or evil, Emily, he does it because he truly cares. Our good doctor’s only wrong here is to go against outdated religious doctrine and state laws, and I believe that he is if anything a better doctor for it. Please do not take it as a reason to despise him.”  
Emily started to cry and Sherlock hesitantly reached out and tentatively patted her on the shoulder. “I know you love him, Emily. You should. He adores you, and he is a good man. He puts his patients ahead of himself in every possible way. I read of one case during his ER rotation at Hopkins where he continued attempting to resuscitate a 7 year old girl for 10 minutes after his attending doctor demanded he stop, even though he knew he would be disciplined for doing so. I believe at one point his efforts included breaking the attending’s nose to keep him from taking away the defibrillator paddles. Incidentally, as the girl had been a drowning victim pulled from an icy river, he did ultimately manage to revive her.” Sherlock grinned, then looked at her seriously. “He does what he does because he cares, Emily. He became a doctor for the best of all possible reasons. Please, just sit and think for a moment before you judge him.”  
“I… I…” Emily swallowed. “My grandfather… he died of Alzheimer’s last year. I loved my grandfather more than anyone. I remember… I remember wishing sometimes in his last five years that he could just die, because his life had become one of undignified suffering, pain, and fear. He was such a proud, dignified, intelligent man before that disease took his mind, and to see him like that… and to think…" She sat in silence for a moment. "Alzheimer's can be genetic. To lose my faculties like that, for Gerard to see me like that, to even LIVE through that... I can’t imagine if I…” She hesitated, biting her lip. “I... I would want Gerard to give me that 'push' before I deteriorated as far as my grandfather did. Yes. Yes, Sherlock, I agree with what Gerard did.” She sat up straight. “Please don’t tell him I know, Sherlock. I would rather bring it up myself sometime… sometime in the future. Maybe never, I don’t know. When the time is right.” She put her hand on his and Sherlock twitched uncomfortably and hid a grimace. “Thank you.”  
“You are truly an extraordinary young woman, Emily. I can see why our dear misanthropic doctor seems to have reformed. He hasn’t even felt the need to steal the coma patient’s morphine for months.” Sherlock shrugged. “Maybe they should turn NA meetings into singles’ mixers.”  
Emily laughed. “I think Joan is all the support you need when you get out of here, Sherlock. She’s one of the kindest, strongest people I’ve ever met.”  
“That she most definitely is.” Sherlock smiled a little. “Despite her aversion to my series of escorts visiting the brownstone.”  
“I didn’t just hear that.” Emily grinned and wiped her eyes.  
“Emily?” Gerard was unlocking his office door, carrying his briefcase and hated white coat. “Are you ready for your review?”  
“Yes.” Emily smiled softly at him. “I love you, Gerard. I’ve missed you so much.”  
Gerard recoiled. “Emily-“  
“Don’t worry, he knows.” She gestured at Sherlock, who waved cheerfully. “Come on, let’s go for a walk in the gardens… unless you want to stop over in the office first?”  
“I’ve missed you too.” Gerard broke into a smile. “Well, we do have some paperwork to do-“  
“I had something else in mind.” Emily smiled wickedly and pulled him into his office, slamming the door behind them.  
“Safe sex, kids!” called Sherlock, unfolding his newspaper.  
Gerard dropped his briefcase and white coat on the floor. “Emily-“  
“Shut up, Gerard.” Emily kissed him deeply, wrapping her arms tightly around his back and pressing her body tightly against his as she pushed him towards the couch. “OK, I’m going to need you to talk me through something.”  
Gerard swallowed. “Emily, if it’s what I think it is, we’ve already-“  
“No, Gerard.” She smiled and kissed him again. “That was different, it was… it was you showing me how much I meant to you, and us showing how important we were to each other… Now I want you to tell me how to show you how much I care about you, your… your kindness, your goodness, your courage and your love for me, and just for… for being you…”  
Gerard stared. “Oh God, that sounds like fun…” He kissed her hard, pulling her scrub top over her head and yanking off his tie as she ripped off his shirt, her hands fumbling at the waistband of his pants. “Emily, where is this coming from?”  
“It’s a… long story.” Emily could feel him kissing the side of her neck as he pushed down her scrubs. “Oh, that feels so good…”  
“It does?” Gerard unhooked her bra, slipping it off and kissing her chest.  
“Yes, it does…” Emily kicked off her scrubs and panties as Gerard stepped out of his pants and pulled her down onto the couch and into his lap. He hugged her close, kissing her hard and pushing his chest against hers, one hand tracing slowly up and down her spine, making her shiver. “OK, what do I do now?”  
Gerard leaned forward and kissed her ear. “Take off my boxer shorts.”  
Emily eased herself up and slipped off his boxers and he moved his hands down to her waist and lifted her up and deep into his lap, her body pressing closely against his and his fingers creeping between her legs as he pushed inside of her. “Oh, Gerard, that feels good, it feels so good…”  
“Now move like this…” He pressed his hand to the small of her back and angled her hips, moving them back and forth as she breathed his name in his ear. “Emily, this feels so, so good…”  
“Mmmm, it does, it does…” Emily wrapped her arms tightly around his back and kissed him hard. “I love you so much…”  
“I love you too…” Gerard was stroking and kneading her between her legs as she moved, her breath hitching and catching. “Does that feel good?”  
“Yes, it feels fantastic…” Emily pressed her face into the side of his neck, breathing in the scent of his skin as she moved her hips, thrusting herself up against his fingers and savouring the waves of pleasure that were beginning to spread through her body. “Oh, keep doing that, Gerard, keep doing that…”  
Gerard smiled and pulled her closer. “Keep doing that?”  
“Oh yes…” Emily felt him start to move his fingers faster and barely held back a scream. “Oh my God, Gerard, that feels so good!”  
“You feel fantastic, Emily…” Gerard leaned in for a deep kiss, both her hands in his hair. “Keep going, keep going…”  
“Like this?” Emily was moving her hips slowly, desperately trying to press harder against his fingers. The sense of pleasure was on the verge of overpowering her and she was breathing heavily into his mouth as she kissed him, her hands tightening into claws in his hair.  
“Oh yes, like that, like that, just like that…” Gerard kept touching and stroking her, pressing harder and harder and moving his fingers faster and faster as he heard her breathing become uneven and her body start to shake. “Emily, Emily, Emily…”  
“Oh… oh Gerard…” Emily felt like she could barely breathe. “Oh, oh… OH-“ She came hard and threw her head back in a silent scream, Gerard’s lips on her neck as her whole body shook. “Oh… oh God…Gerard, Gerard, Gerard…” She kept moving her hips, breathing hard. “Oh Gerard…”  
“Emily…” Gerard cradled the sides of her face in both hands, kissing her gently again and again. “Emily, I adore you…”  
“Am I doing this right?” Emily wrapped her arms around his back, pressing her body tightly against his and rubbing herself as hard as she could against his hips as she moved, sensations of pleasure beginning to pulse through her body again.  
“Oh yes Emily, oh yes you are, oh yes…” Gerard was kissing her harder and harder, his tongue deep in her mouth. “Exactly like that, oh God, that feels so good…”  
“It does, oh yes…” Emily was moving faster and faster as the pulses grew stronger and stronger. “Gerard, you feel so good…”  
“I do?” Gerard started to kiss the side of her neck and throat and Emily swore quietly.  
“Oh yes, oh yes…” Emily buried her face in his hair.  
“Emily, tell me you’re close, please…” Gerard could feel his body trembling.  
“Oh… oh yes, I…” Emily’s mouth was on his again, her eyes unfocused and her body moving faster and faster. “Oh… OH GER-“  
Gerard kissed her deeply as she came, stifling her scream, and a second later jerked violently as he came himself, shaking the couch and knocking two ornaments off the shelves with a crash. “Oh Emily…” He brushed her sweaty fringe off her face and looked into her eyes. “Emily, I love you…”  
“I love you too.” Emily smiled and held her forehead against his, her breath hot in his mouth as she kissed him. “I’ll always love you, I swear…”  
Gerard smiled back and stroked her cheek. “I think I’ll always love you too.”


	15. 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Shona.

“Emily, I don’t know what brought that on, but…” Gerard was shaking his head and buttoning his shirt, a huge grin on his face. “But I’m definitely not going to complain.”  
“Because you love me?” Emily was sitting on the couch and hooking the back of her bra closed, a smile on her face as she looked up at him.  
“Because I love you.” Gerard smiled softly and stroked the side of her face.  
“I love you too.” Emily smiled again and pulled him down on the couch to kiss her, and Gerard let out a half-hearted cry of protest. “Emily, I see Iero in twenty minutes!”  
“And you’d rather have Frank on this couch than me?” Emily half-managed an Irene-style pout, the edges of her mouth twitching and her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “I’m hurt.”  
Gerard laughed. “Believe me, there is NO ONE I would rather have on this couch than you.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. “We might have to move it to the house. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to talk to a patient on it again and keep a straight face.”  
Emily looked down and ran her hand across the cracked leather. “I don’t know, I might want to keep a reminder of me around here for the next time you get a pretty redhead as a patient…”  
Gerard stroked her hair. “I think I’ll have all the pretty redhead I can handle waiting at home in Ocean City.”  
“Smooth talker.” Emily laid her head on his chest and slipped her hand into his shirt, stroking his back. “I’ll have to watch out for that.”  
Gerard leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You will.”

“Why is it so HOT in here?” Irene was fanning herself with a magazine and pouting. “It’s going to melt my face powder!”  
Emily flopped down next to her. “Broken air conditioning. Dr Way told me they got two repairmen in from Trenton this morning. Some idiot fused out three of the power units.”  
“Pleasant meeting with your lovely doctor, Emily?” Sherlock was reading the Financial Times. “I trust your conversations were… satisfactory.” He raised an eyebrow at her.  
“Definitely.” Emily had to hold back a laugh. “And repeatedly.”  
“Excellent.” Sherlock turned the page of his newspaper. “You’ll be glad to know that the value of your stock holdings in London has increased significantly, Irene.”  
“Well, of course they have, my hedge fund bet on the value of EnviroOil falling, and then I blew up three of their refineries.” Irene rolled her eyes and carried on painting her nails. “You know I don’t care for leaving things to chance, darling.”  
“I didn’t hear that.” Emily got up and headed for her room. “I’m going to get another book, Sherlock. Do you want to borrow this one?”  
“No thank you, Emily, but thank you for the kind offer.” Sherlock started absently stroking Irene’s hair as she lay in his lap. “I have several periodicals due to arrive this afternoon.”  
“And if we’re going to talk about Emily screwing him, Sherlock, at least have the manners not to treat me like a half-witted imbecile.” Irene shot him a look. “‘Satisfactory conversations’ my ass.” She went back to painting her nails. “He definitely seems to know how to get her off though, I’ll give him that.”

Emily pushed open the door of her room and recoiled. “Frank, why in the hell are you in my room?”  
Frank reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her inside. “Emily, we have to talk.”  
“Maybe later, Frank, but-“ Emily felt his hand tighten painfully. “Frank, you’re hurting me-“  
“Why did you leave me for Dr Way, Emily?” Frank’s voice was frighteningly calm.  
“I… didn’t leave you for Dr Way. We just broke up. It happens.” Emily eyed the emergency alarm on her wall.  
“Don’t even think about hitting that alarm button, Emily, or things are going to get very, VERY painful for you.” Frank was still smiling, but his voice had taken on a vicious edge.  
“No, Frank, you don’t understand.” Emily shook her head, trying to stay calm. “There’s nothing going on between me and Dr Way-“  
“Cut the bullshit, Emily, you stink of him.”  
Emily tried to shove him away. “Frank, that’s disgusting.”  
Frank wrinkled his nose. “No, YOU’RE disgusting, you fucking WHORE, everyone fucking knows, we know you’re together, that YOU’RE together, we know he gave YOU that necklace, we know YOU’RE FUCKING-“  
“You know wrong.” Emily gritted her teeth. “Now let me GO.”  
“Why, Emily? Why would you take him? You could have any of the other doctors here and yet you take him.” An odd manic tone had come into Frank’s voice. “Was it to play games with me, Emily? Was it to see how far you could push me? Was it to try and break poor sick little Frank? Was it a plan you came up with together? Do and and your doctor fuck buddy laugh at me?”  
“No!” Emily tried to back away but he just tightened his grip. “Frank, I don’t know what you mean-“  
“HE WAS MINE FIRST!” Frank’s eyes had turned black again. “YOU WERE MINE FIRST! HE CAN’T HAVE YOU!”  
Emily tried to pull her arm away. “Frank-“  
“TELL ME!” Frank pulled a handgun from the back of his pants. “Glock 19, Emily. Small, compact, everything you need in a weapon yet still so small I can conceal it in my scrubs without anyone noticing. The perfect gun for versatile use. I believe the NYPD use them.”  
“Please don’t hurt me, Frank.” Emily could feel tears starting to run down her face. “I want to-“ Be with Gerard. “I… I want to-“ Go home with him to Ocean City and get married one day. “I want to-“ Be with him forever. “I… I want to do so many things-“  
“So many THINGS. SO many THINGS I will NEVER get to do because I will be in here FOREVER!” screamed Frank. “It’s not FAIR!”  
“Why-“ Emily swallowed, wondering whether to scream or run. “Why are you doing this to me, Frank? I don’t understand why-”  
“Because everyone lies all the fucking time, but they’re just so much more honest with you when they think they’re about to die.” He raised his eyebrows. “So, let’s try again.” He grinned at her and trained the gun on her chest. “Why did you leave me, Emily?”  
Emily looked him straight in the eye. “Because I love him.”

Irene dropped her red nail polish and sat bolt upright. “Sherlock, was that a gunshot?”  
“Yes. And that was another one.” Sherlock got up and strode towards the corridor. “Irene, get out. Run. Don’t just hide in your room, get out. I think he has a master key to all the doors in the building.”  
Irene stared. “Why-“  
“Because the repairmen have them and one of them must have brought in the gun. Go.”  
Irene promptly climbed up the shelves, popped out her usual ceiling tile, and pulled herself up inside the dropped ceiling.  
“Irene, don’t think I don’t know you’re up there again!” Gerard was holding a walkie-talkie to his mouth as he walked towards the main corridor, wearing the hated white coat and carrying his emergency trauma kit. “This is Dr Way in Psychiatry, we have an active shooter situation in the Linden building, requesting all available security, EMT, and police response to the second floor. Activate lockdown all other wards and initiate mass casualty procedures immediately. Not a drill, repeat this is NOT A DRILL.” He heard another volley of shots and started to run. “EMILY!”

Emily was lying on her back in a spreading pool of blood, her fingers clutching at the wounds in her chest and her eyes wide with shock. Frank leaned down and yanked the locket off her neck. “Thanks, Emily.” He kissed her on the cheek and she rolled onto her side, desperately trying to grab the necklace. Frank dangled it out of reach and laughed as she grabbed at it weakly, waving it in front of her face before snatching it away. “Nice necklace.” He shot her again and Emily jerked and fell back, her lips silently mouthing Gerard’s name and tears running down her cheeks. Frank stood up, ejecting the empty clip onto the floor beside her and locking in a fresh one as he headed back into the corridor, tucking the gun back inside his scrubs.

“He has a Glock 19, Dr Way, and I have just clearly heard him change the cartridge. I attempted to take it from him, but the quetiapine you are so insistent I take has somewhat slowed my reaction times.” Sherlock was bare-chested and leaning against the wall as he made his way slowly back up the corridor, his bloodstained scrub top wadded up and pressed against his shoulder. “Without counting the 9mm bullet currently lodged beneath my collarbone, and assuming the gun was brought to him fully loaded, he has just used up fifteen rounds, and now he has at least fifteen more.”  
“Hi, Dr Way!” Frank appeared, soaked in blood and smiling cheerfully. “I’m really sorry I shot Sherlock, but don’t worry about it. He won’t die, I promise.” He paused. “I brought you something.” He dropped Emily’s blood-spattered locket into Gerard’s hand, the yellow diamonds sparkling under the fluorescent lights and its thin chain broken near the clasp.  
Gerard stared at it, his mouth hanging open, and then shoved past both of them and ran for Emily’s room, grabbing the walkie-talkie. “TRAUMA ASSISTANCE ROOM 229 LINDEN BUILDING, REPEAT 229 LINDEN BUILDING!”  
Frank walked slowly after him, his voice cooling. “Why are you calling for help, Dr Way? I don’t understand. I put a lot of work into this for you. I even fused the air conditioning units for you so my cousin could smuggle in the gun. It was all for you. I did everything for you. Why aren’t you thanking me?”

“EMILY! EMILY!” Gerard finally reached her room and almost slipped over in the blood on the floor. The walls and ceiling of her room were sprayed with red and Emily was sprawled on her back with her eyes closed, the front of her scrub top so bloodstained and shredded that he couldn’t begin to tell how many times Frank had shot her. “Oh God…” He dropped to his knees beside her and ripped open the trauma kit. “Emily, it’s me, it’s Gerard, talk to me!” He pressed her beloved locket into her hand and clasped his hand around it, cutting off her scrub top with trauma shears. “Oh God, Emily…” There was nowhere to put in a chest tube, no skin to stick defibrillator pads to, nowhere he could stick a needle to drain blood around her heart. Hell, he could see for himself that the pericardial sac was torn wide open anyway, blood oozing out into her chest. He desperately tried to remember what he’d learned during his ER rotation and came up with nothing. “Emily!”  
He saw her smile, her eyes still closed. “Gerard…” She dragged in a shallow breath and fell still, her hand limp beneath his.  
“No, no, EMILY! EMILY!” Gerard held his ear against her chest and broke into heavy sobs, wiping the tears out of his eyes impatiently. “Emily, I’m going to give you chest compressions, OK? It might hurt a little, but I promise-“ Gerard jerked and let out a shocked gasp, collapsing onto his face beside Emily’s body as Frank shot him five times in the back.  
“YOU BASTARD!” Frank was standing in the doorway, his face contorted with rage. “Why are you HELPING her? You think you can just decide you don’t WANT me? I did all this for YOU! You were meant to be MINE!”  
“No, I wasn’t.” Gerard winced as he turned his head. “I was always hers.”  
Frank screamed and emptied the clip into him. “YOU ABSOLUTE BA-“  
Irene hit him hard from behind with a croquet mallet and he fell to the ground, the gun skittering off down the corridor. “You son of a fucking bitch. I really liked her. I really, REALLY fucking liked her. You know how fucking rare that is?” She spat on him and hit him again. “You just made yourself a really powerful fucking enemy. I swear I’m going to beat the fucking shit out of you until fucking Judgement Day.”  
“Emily…” Gerard pulled himself across the floor and wrapped his arm around her, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he kissed her behind her ear, hoping for the same familiar beat beneath her skin. There was nothing. He choked back another sob and kissed her cheek, closing his hand more closely around hers and breathing in the scent of her neck as he buried his face in her hair. “Oh, Emily…”


	16. 16

“She’s still asystole, push more A positive and electrolytes, I want a patch on that aorta now, she’s losing blood faster than we can push it!”  
“Pushing epi now, charging 250, CLEAR!” Gerard heard a loud jolting sound as he lay on the cold table, his eyes closed and his limbs too weak to move. He could feel several hands moving inside his body, pulling and probing and stitching, and maybe a half dozen people were talking rapidly above him.  
“I’m counting minimum a dozen bullets lodged here, if she didn’t have all these titanium plates in her ribs from the osteo surgery her organs would be soup right now. She’s damn lucky she had that adenoma. Someone’s definitely watching over her…”  
Emily. Something lit up in Gerard’s dimming brain. Emily’s here…  
“Let’s leave guardian angels out of this, Dr Fry.” There was muffled laughter and Gerard immediately hated them all. “Shock her again.”  
“Charging 350, CLEAR!” There was another loud jolt.  
Emily… Gerard opened his mouth but no sound came out. Emily… He mouthed her name silently, unnoticed by any of the working doctors. Emily…  
“Jesus, her liver is in SHREDS and her kidneys are gone…”  
“We’ll worry about that once we have a rhythm, charge 350, CLEAR!” Gerard another loud jolt. “Nothing, keep pushing fluids!”  
“Emily…” Gerard forced her name out and opened his eyes a little. A trauma team was working frantically over her a few feet away as she lay silent and still on the table. He tried to reach out to her but he was too weak to move his arms. “Emily, I love you…”  
“Gerard, it’s Lea from trauma, we did our ER rotation at Hopkins together, remember?” He could see a blurry figure above him. “We’re doing everything we can for Emily, OK, but you need to stay still and focus on you, OK? Just keep breathing for me, OK, listen to my voice, Gerard, keep breathing, stay with me…”  
“Lea, I love her… please don’t let her die…” Gerard closed his eyes, feeling tears start to run down his face. “We’re the… same… same type. Blood… tissue… all of it.” He choked and coughed up a huge clot of blood. “Give her… give her my liver… a kidney… heart… anything.” He felt his brain clouding. “Everything…”  
“We’re losing him!” There was a male voice over him now. “Push more A pos on him and keep calling that OR team, I don’t give a shit about their fucking scheduled bypass! Hell, they should have pulled the fucking thing when psychiatry activated mass casualty protocol!”  
“Still nothing. Crack her chest.”  
“No, call her. Time of death 4.32pm-“  
“NO!” Gerard summoned up all his energy and took in a shuddering gasp of air. “Keep going!” He sucked in another breath. “KEEP GOING!”  
“She’s dead. Call. It.” The male voice sounded angry.  
“She’s… she’s not dead…” Gerard could hardly breathe any more, his body drifting. “Please…”  
“WE’RE LOSING HIM, PAGE THE OR AGAIN NOW!”  
“If he says keep going then we’re keeping going. Push more epi, charge 400.” Gerard heard Lea’s voice take on a hard tone and smiled to himself. She was always a badass in med school.  
“Lea. It’s over. TOD 4.3-“  
“Fuck you, Dr Mak.” Gerard heard a hard shove and the sound of someone falling over and cursing. “Charge 400, CLEAR!” There was another loud jolt.  
“Dr Taravella, I swear I will have you brought up on-“  
“More fluids, she’s bleeding out!”  
“She can’t bleed out if she’s already DEAD, DR TARAVELLA!”  
“Oh, WILL you just SHUT the FUCK up, Dr Mak.” Gerard could almost hear Lea rolling her eyes. “Asystole, charging 400 again, CLEAR!”  
There was another jolt and suddenly Gerard heard a regular beeping and an astonished gasp. “We… oh my God, we have a rhythm. Keep pushing fluids and call the OR again. Confirm all scheduled surgeries cancelled and page Dr Winter. We need another team.”  
“We have to intubate, he’s not breathing!” There was another voice, male and panicked. Someone was forcing Gerard’s mouth open and tilting his head back, and he could feel cold metal pressing against the back of his throat. There was a loud curse. “Fuck, Sampson, I can’t see for shit!”  
“WE HAVE TO INTUBATE HIM NOW!”  
“I’m TRYING, I can’t see the cords, there’s too much blood!”  
“Jesus, we’re going to have to trach him. Get me the trach kit.”  
She’s alive. Thank God, she’s alive. Gerard smiled to himself again and finally let the creeping darkness overtake him.

…..Emily…..

…..Emily…..

…..Emily…..

.….Emily…..

…..Emily…..

When he opened his eyes again he had to squint against the fluorescent lights. There were tubes in his throat, sides, chest, and arms, as well as what seemed like a hundred wires and machines hooked up to him and beeping merrily. There were dozens of angry red scars criss-crossing his chest and one long, raised one running from his throat to somewhere under the blanket, wired closed with thick metal staples. A few seconds passed before the pain hit him and he tried to scream, but no sound came out. He shifted slightly in an attempt to ease the pain and winced at the discomfort of the tracheotomy tube, and then suddenly had a horrible feeling that there was another tube violating his ‘gentleman’s area’. His mother was sitting beside him, her head bent in prayer and her hands clutching a rosary. He tried to make a sound and finally managed an odd cough, and his mother’s head jerked up. “Oh my God, you’re awake. Gerard, Gerard, my baby, thank God, thank God, HE’S AWAKE, HE’S AWAKE!” She ran to the corridor. “HE’S AWAKE!” She ran back to him and grabbed his hand, pressing it against her lips and holding it tightly as if to reassure herself that he was really there. “Gerard, darling, it’s been days, they said…” She started to cry. “Oh God, they said…”  
A dozen nurses and doctors had appeared, examining him and taking notes and measurements as a phlebotomist drew endless vials of blood.  
Gerard turned his head and looked at his mother, his eyes full of desperation as he mouthed Emily’s name, his eyebrows raised and his heart in his throat. She has to be alive, she has to be alive, she has to be alive, I’ll die without her…  
“She’s alive, Gerard.” His mother tearfully squeezed his hand. “Some psychotic English girl called Irene’s been with her day and night, although she’s chained to the bed and three heavily armed guards.” She pulled a face.  
Gerard tried to look around the room and mouthed “Where is she?”  
“Right next door, right on the other side of that wall.” His mother pointed at a wall with a hideous painting of a dog. She smiled and started to stroke his hair. “Your Emily’s alive, my baby. She has one of your kidneys and a lobe of your liver, but she’s alive.” She squeezed his hand again. “I signed the consent. I knew you’d need her to live.”  
Gerard smiled, mouthing “You were right.”  
His mother just nodded knowingly.  
“She’s still highly unstable. Nothing’s certain for Miss May right now,” interrupted a doctor, giving Gerard’s mother a look as he drew a full dose of Dilaudid and injected it into Gerard’s IV line. “This should help with the pain, Gerard. If it gets unbearable, press this button, and a nurse will top you up.” He pressed a small control box into his hand.  
“Tell her I love her,” mouthed Gerard.  
“I have.” His mother kissed his cheek. “I’ve told her every day.”  
“She probably can’t hear you.” The doctor gave his mother a dirty look and Gerard wished he could punch him. He made a mental note to find him and punch him as soon as he could move his arms. “She’s still deeply unconscious. She coded seven times during surgery after being resuscitated in the ER. As it is… it’s day by day. She might not last the week.”  
“She will,” said Gerard’s mother confidently.  
Gerard smiled and closed his eyes, his mouth moving silently. “She will.”


	17. Chapter 17

“I’m sorry I can’t carry you into the house like I usually do, Emily…” Gerard winced as he pulled out his house keys. “But the doctor said that lifting anything heavy might tear my stitches and… and…” Oh shit, Gerard, you just implied bad things about her weight. “And… and…” There is no safe answer to this. Damage control. Damage control. “And I don’t want to risk tearing yours just by picking you up.” Nice save.  
Emily raised an eyebrow and poked him playfully with her cane. “Nice save.”  
Shit. Gerard cleared his throat. “Anyway, I had your roommate ship all your stuff from your old apartment to the house, and I’ve unpacked it all in the five weeks you were still in the hospital, so…” He smiled at her. “So it should feel more like home.”  
Emily stretched up and kissed him. “Gerard, it IS my home.”  
He stroked the side of her face and opened the door. “It is.”  
“Gerard, we-“ Emily took one look around the living room and burst out laughing. The mixture of her weird tastes and the rest of the house was a nightmare. “Gerard, we REALLY need to redecorate.”  
Gerard laughed. “Fair enough. It needs a woman’s touch, and I haven’t bothered to even touch the place since I moved in ten years ago.” He took her cane and propped it against the wall by the door. “Here, lean on my arm. They had to replace and extend a lot of the metal plating in your chest.”  
Emily rolled her eyes. “That’s me, the bionic woman.”  
Gerard had to stifle another laugh. “I just don’t want you to overdo it.”  
“You might want to work on that line, Gerard. It might not work on normal women.” Emily grinned at him, and then took his arm and leaned on him as he guided her to the couch and helped lower her down onto the cushions.  
“I don’t want a normal woman.” He lay down beside her and put his arms around her, stroking her hair as she rolled over and laid her head on his shoulder. “I want you.”  
“I know.” Emily smiled to herself and fingered her locket that had been back around her neck since the day after the shooting, carefully mended by Sherlock and Irene. She laid a hand on her abdomen. “I’d say a liver and a kidney is a pretty big demonstration of commitment.”  
Gerard turned his head and kissed her. “I told them to give you everything.”  
“I know.” Emily snuggled in closer to him, pressing her body against his and slipping her hand under his T-shirt, tracing her fingers along his scars. “I love you for it.”  
He started to run his fingers up and down her spine, and she felt herself shiver. “I love you too.”  
Emily leaned in and kissed him deeply, her tongue deep in his mouth and her arms wrapping tightly around his back. “God, Gerard, you taste so good…”  
“Mmmm, so do you…” He wrapped his arms more tightly around her back and then her hands were on his shirt and trying to pull it over his head. He let her go and pulled away, fighting the urge to pull off her shirt and bury his face in her neck. “Emily, you were only just-“  
“Remember, Gerard, I’m the bionic woman.” Emily kept kissing him, finally succeeding in pulling his shirt over his head.  
“Emily-“ Gerard barely stifled a laugh. “Emily, that is no one’s fantasy.”  
Emily mimicked Irene’s pout perfectly as she traced her fingers down the long scar running from his throat to under his pants. “Does that mean you don’t want me?”  
“I… I… oh God…” Gerard grabbed her and yanked off her shirt, tossing her bra over his head and kissing her hard. Oh, crap. Something suddenly occurred to him. Shit. Shit, Gerard, shit. “Just… just promise you’ll close your eyes when I take off my pants.”  
“Why?” Emily pulled back, a look of shock on her face. “What the hell did they do to you?”  
Jesus. Scale it back, Gerard, scale it back. “No, no, it’s not that, everything’s still… normal, it’s still, you know, there, it’s nothing medical, it’s just…” Gerard shifted uncomfortably. “Just promise you won’t look, OK? It’ll make sense in a minute… or 60.” He grinned and rolled on top of her, holding himself up with his elbows so she didn’t have to bear his weight while putting one hand over her eyes and pushing off his pants with the other, flinging them across the room. “OK, we’re good.”  
“Fantastic.” Emily grinned and pulled him in to kiss her, one hand fumbling at the waistband of her jeans and pushing them off as she kicked off the superhero Keds he had painted for her almost a year before. “God, Gerard, you have no idea how long I’ve fantasised about this, I think a couple of times the nurses thought I was going into v-fib…”  
“Oh, me too, me too…” Gerard’s hand was slipping beneath her panties and she pushed them down impatiently as he began to stroke and knead her, her breath hitching and catching.  
“Oh, oh, that feels so good…” Emily was kissing him again and again, savouring the feelings of pleasure that had crept through her in so many dreams and burying her face in his hair as he began to kiss the side of her neck, breathing in his old familiar scent. “Oh Gerard, you smell so wonderful, I’ve missed you so much…”  
She felt him smile against her skin as he kissed her. “I’ve been sleeping in your room at the hospital on a fold-out cot for five weeks. I don’t think I let go of your hand once.”  
She smacked his back playfully. “You know what I mean, you jerk.”  
Gerard feigned a look of hurt. “Does that mean you want me to stop?” He raised an eyebrow, slowly starting to move his fingers faster and watching a dazed smile start to spread across her face.  
“Oh no, no, please, keep going, keep going, even though you’re a jerk…” Emily kept kissing him, pressing herself against his fingers as the waves of pleasure radiated through her, growing stronger and stronger. He slipped a finger inside of her and she gasped, her fingers and toes clenching. “Oh Jesus, Gerard, that’s fantastic, kiss me, kiss me…”  
Gerard leaned in for a deep kiss, pushing another finger inside her as he moved his fingers, and her whole body jerked, the sensations of pleasure intensifying. She was breathing heavily into his mouth, her fingers gripping the couch cushions. “Emily, I’ve missed you…  
“Oh, I’ve missed you… I’ve missed you too…” Emily’s breath was coming in starts and jerks, her eyes closed and her hips pushing hard against his fingers as she wrapped her arms around his back. “Oh… oh Gerard, oh God, don’t stop, don’t stop, please, oh, keep going, that’s so good, that’s so good…” She was frantically rubbing against his fingers, her eyes half closed and her mouth hanging open. She could barely breathe, her whole body shaking uncontrollably. “Oh… oh… OH JESUS, GERARD, OH-“ Her fingernails scraped across his back and her body arched painfully as she came hard, her head thrown back and her mouth wide open as she screamed his name. “Oh… oh Gerard, please, more, I want more…”  
He smiled, leaned down, and kissed her ear. “I will give you everything.”  
Emily stroked the side of his face and looked up at him. “You have already given me more than I deserve.” She began to kiss along his scars, then lay back and looked up at him. “They told me you clung to me when they tried to take you away on a trolley to the ER and that you were somehow speaking and begging them not to give up on me seconds before you coded yourself, even though your lungs were full of blood and your heart was barely beating, and that you still held on until you heard my heart start to beat again. Is that true?”  
Gerard nodded, tears beginning to fill his eyes.  
“They told me you could have run. They told me that when they found us that I was dead and you had your arm around me and you were holding my hand… is that true?” Emily had tears running down her face.  
Gerard nodded again as tears streamed down his face and dripped onto her cheeks, resting his forehead against hers and stroking the side of her face.  
“You knew you were bleeding out and rather than use the trauma kit on yourself you chose to die with me.” Emily looked at him searchingly. “Is that true?”  
Gerard nodded silently.  
She looked up at him, their eyes inches apart and their lips almost brushing together as she cradled the side of his face. “Why?”  
“Because you had to live.” He looked at her in amazement. “Because life without you would be nothing.”  
Emily stared for a second and then pulled him in to kiss her, tracing every scar on his body with the tip of her finger. “Every scar…”  
He smiled and kissed her gently. “Every scar is yours.” He leaned down to kiss her. “I love you, Emily. I couldn’t live without you.”  
“And I without you.” Emily smiled softly and started to kiss him, at first gently and then more and more frantically, slipping her hands down to his waist and thrusting her hips up against his.  
Gerard swallowed. “Emily, are you in too much pain to-“  
Emily rolled her eyes. “Oh shut up, Gerard.”  
Gerard laughed and pressed his lips against hers, kissing her hard as he kicked off his boxers and pushed inside of her. Emily gasped, her fingers trembling, and then she was kissing him again, her hands running over his back and tracing the tracks and pits of his scars. “Oh, Gerard, I’ve missed you…”  
He smiled. “I’ve missed you too.” He buried his face in her hair and hugged her close, careful to keep his weight off her body. “Emily, when I thought I was going to lose you, when I thought I’d lost you… I wanted to die…”  
“I know, I know…” Emily’s hands were in his hair, her cheek pressed against his. “I couldn’t have lived without you either, when they told me… when they told me I had your kidney and part of your liver, I thought… I thought…” She burst into tears. “I thought it meant you were dead, and… and…”  
“No, Emily, no, I told them, I told them to give you everything, I just wanted you to live…” Gerard started to kiss the tears off her face. “Emily, I love you so much, I wish I could show you how much but I just can’t…”  
“You have.” Emily smiled and stroked the side of his face.  
“No. It’s not enough.” Gerard kissed her gently. “Nothing will ever be enough.”  
“Gerard. It is enough.” Emily smiled again, her face flushed and sweaty. “And I love you too.”  
Gerard smiled and kissed her, his hands tangled in her hair, and then he was kissing down the side of her neck and she was lifting her hips, pleasure starting to beat through her body again. She started to rub herself against him and she heard a moan catch in his throat, his arms tightening around her back. He was kissing the scars on her chest, tracing his fingers along them. “I can’t believe how close I came to losing you, Emily…”  
“But you didn’t.” She stroked the back of his neck and he looked up at her face. “Kiss me, Gerard. I’ve wanted you desperately for months.”  
Gerard grinned and kissed her hard, feeling her push her tongue into his mouth as he held his forehead against hers and cradled the sides of her face in his hands. “God, Emily, you are so special…”  
“Oh, so are you, so are you…” Emily was breathing faster and heavier as their lips brushed together gently, the waves of pleasure pushing deeper and stronger inside her. “Oh Gerard… oh God… oh, that feels so good…”  
“Mmm, it does?”  
“Oh yes, oh Gerard, kiss me, kiss me…” Emily’s breath was coming hard and fast against his skin, her hands tightening in his hair and her body trembling.  
“Emily, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, how much I’ve missed you, how much I love you…” He was kissing her frantically, barely able to get the words out. “All I think about is you, all I want is you, all I will ever want is you…”  
“The nights you sat up holding my hand… the day they took the staples out… however bad… however awful… however much I screamed… you were there for all of it, Gerard, all of it.” Emily felt her body start to shake, the feelings of pleasure overwhelming her, and kissed him harder and harder. “I’m yours forever.”  
“Emily…” Gerard kissed her throat, feeling her body start to push up against his as her neck arched. “Oh God, Emily, I love you…”  
“Oh God… oh Gerard… oh… oh…” Emily could hardly breathe. “Oh… oh Gerard, oh, OH-“ She came harder than she had ever come in her life, her body singing and her mouth open in a silent scream as she clung to Gerard’s back. Gerard leaned down and kissed her, his fingers tightening in her hair, and a second later he came himself, his body shuddering as he used every ounce of strength he had not to collapse on top of her. “Oh… oh Jesus, Gerard… that was… that was…” Emily shook her head wordlessly.  
“Emily…” He leaned down and kissed her, propped up carefully on his elbows. “Oh, Emily, it’s been so long…”  
“It has.” Emily smiled and stroked the side of his face. “I’ve missed you.”  
“I’ve missed you too.” Gerard smiled back. “But Emily, as much as I love this, as much as I love lying here with you… it’s time for your morphine.” He leaned down and kissed her gently, laughing as she pouted. “Let me go get it.” He got up, pulled his T-shirt over her head as a nightdress, and kissed her forehead. “I think I might have to let you keep that. It’s adorable on you.”  
Emily laughed. “You say that about all your clothes.”  
“That’s because it’s always true.” Gerard kissed her again and pulled up his pants, going to rummage in one of the many medicine bags he had from the hospital and finally pulling out a dark brown bottle. “Got it.” He got on his knee in front of her and carefully measured out the correct dose. “I’m so sorry we have to do it like this, Emily, but the hospital insisted.” He smiled apologetically. “Open up.” Emily rolled her eyes and opened her mouth for Gerard to administer the liquid morphine. “All done.” He paused. “Oh no, wait, there was one more thing.”  
Emily rolled her eyes again. “What is it, some other embarrassing medical process?”  
Gerard grinned. “Not exactly.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out another, smaller velvet box. “Emily May, will you marry me?” He opened it and held it out to her.  
Emily’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding.”  
Gerard blinked. That was not the answer he was hoping for. “Um… no. No, I’m not.”  
“But I’m only wearing an old Apple Jacks T-shirt.” Emily was staring at the huge round diamond in the centre of the two slightly smaller round sapphires, the setting swirling and looping beneath the stones and the band engraved in an intricate antique style.  
“You are.” Gerard smiled, reached out and stroked the side of her face. “And you’re beautiful.”  
Emily looked down, biting her lip, and then looked up at him and smiled. “Yes.”  
“Yes?” Gerard didn’t dare believe his ears. “Did you say yes?”  
Emily nodded and grinned. “Yes!”  
“Oh my God!” Gerard wanted to pick her up and spin her around but managed to catch himself. Broken bones, Gerard. Broken bones. And stitches. And staples. Oh fuck, those damn staples. “Oh my God, Emily…” He hugged her tightly and kissed her as he slid the white gold ring onto her finger. “I love you so much, Emily, I do, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me…”  
“This ring, Gerard, it’s… it’s…” Emily stared at it, moving her hand and watching it sparkle in the light. “It’s beautiful.”  
“I designed it for you myself. The diamond is 3 carats and the sapphires are 1 carat each. It’ll match your earrings.” He stroked her face. “I wanted the setting and the band to be as beautiful as your Neruda poems and your paintings, I designed the area between the band and the stones to be elvish-style from your fantasy books and the band like all your beautifully engraved heirloom jewellery… but it’s still not half as beautiful as you.” He kissed her again, cradling the sides of her face in his hands and stroking her cheeks, and then looked at her face carefully. “Are you OK, Emily?” Please don’t have changed your mind. Please don’t have changed your mind. Please don’t have changed your mind.  
“I…’ Emily chewed on her lip. “I… I know I should only be excited, I know I should be jumping up and down, but…” She sighed reluctantly. “But I’m mostly just very, VERY tired.”  
Thank God. Gerard let out a sigh of relief. “Emily, sweetheart, you just got out of the hospital and you’re up to your eyeballs in opiates. It’s normal to be tired. You’re probably exhausted. I’m amazed you had the energy to jump me the second we got in the door.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Do you want to sleep here or on the bed I had my cousin set up in the dining room for when you can’t get up the stairs?”  
“The bed, please. The new rod in my spine is hurting me.” Emily looked up at him. “Will you stay with me?”  
“Of course I will.” Gerard smiled, guided her into the dining room, and tucked her into bed. He crept back into the living room, changed out of his pants into his boxer shorts, and then climbed into bed with her and cuddled into her back, wrapping his arms around her waist and taking her hand in his. She smiled, raised his hand to her mouth and kissed it, holding it against her lips as he tucked his chin over her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her skin.  
He heard her clear her throat. “Gerard?”  
He stroked her hand with his thumb. “Yes, Emily?”  
“The ring is beautiful.” He could hear a smile in her voice as she snuggled back into his body . “I can’t wait to marry you.”  
He laughed quietly and kissed her cheek, tightening his arms around her waist. “I can’t wait to marry you either.”


	18. 18

“Yeah, yeah, another doctor come to see the ‘psycho killer boy’, right?” Frank grinned and put his magazine down. “I bet you draw straws on who gets to come and give me my meds, right?“  
“Right.” Gerard stood against the wall opposite Frank’s bed. “Which gang shanked you this time, Frank? Irene seems to know someone who knows everyone, so it could have been any of them, assuming of course that you didn’t just piss them off yourself. At least you’re in recovery now, though, right? No machines… no wires…” He stared at him. “No warnings at all.”  
“Dr… Dr…” Frank’s eyes widened. “…Dr Way? Is… is that you?”  
“What’s up, Frank?” Gerard grinned, pulled up a chair, and sat down. “You look like you saw a ghost.”  
“You… you…” Frank had gone deathly white. “No, you’re dead. I killed you. You can’t be here.”  
“Is it the white blonde wig? You’re right, it does make me look like I’ve been dead for a week. I don’t like it either, it’s awful with my skin tone.” Gerard made a face. “And I get that my white coat says Dr Scully, but you can get these things embroidered with anything, and I was always a big X-Files freak… plus you know I’m hot for redheads, so… why not, right?”  
“You’re not here.” Frank was shaking his head. “You can’t be here.”  
“Oh, but I can.” Gerard sat back in his chair. “I’m sad to say Emily can’t be here too, though.”  
“I was wondering when you’d mention that bitch.” Frank smirked. “So, how is life without-“  
“Emily? OK, I guess.” Gerard shrugged. “I mean, it’s been hard, of course, but I only saw her a couple of hours ago, and I’ll see her again soon. She’s at her parents’ house with the baby. I’m sure she’d have loved to say hi, but you know how it is with small babies.”  
Frank stared at him and Gerard laughed. “Oh yes, you’ve been in maximum security getting shanked and being told to grab your ankles for 18 months, so you’ve probably missed a lot of the outside gossip.” He leaned forwards. “Emily’s alive, Frank. She survived.”  
Frank burst out laughing. “See, if you’re going to come in and mess with me, pick something plausible, like maybe, I don’t know, aliens. Emily’s dead.” Frank smirked to himself. “I watched her die. You were lying in her blood, clinging to her, crying like a baby, begging her to live-“  
“And then Irene hit you with the mallet that second time and it was night-night for Frankie.” Gerard sighed. “You missed the best bit, Frank. Emily’s alive. They resuscitated her in the ER.”  
Frank shook his head. “That’s impossible. She couldn’t have lived. I wouldn’t have let her live. I put five bullets in her heart.”  
“No, Frank, you didn’t. You see, there’s something special about Emily.” Gerard paused. “I mean, there are lots of things that are special about Emily, and every single one just makes me love her more, but this is the one that’s important right now. She had an adenoma in her brain as a child, Frank, and they didn’t find it until she was 19. It meant we needed fertility drugs, sure, and she has to bottle feed the baby, but it also means she’s tiny and she developed osteoporosis before she was even 20. After a violent assault in Pennsylvania, almost a year before she was even admitted to our hospital, she had titanium plates screwed into her ribcage. Most of the bullets lodged in them, and because she’s so small the gaps between her ribs are unusually narrow.” Gerard grinned. “Only two bullets hit her heart. One nicked her left atrium, and one caught her aorta. They patched the aorta in the crash room and managed a permanent fix on both in the OR. One centimetre’s difference and you would have severed her aorta completely, and she’d have bled out in seconds. She wouldn’t even have lived long enough to say goodbye to me… or what she thought was goodbye.” He sighed. “Tough luck there, Frank. You also hit her right lung, but she still had the left, and that was a relatively easy fix once the bullet was out.” He paused again. “Oh yes, and then I gave her part of my liver and one of my kidneys after you destroyed hers. We’re the same tissue type. The only essential organs you could easily get at were ones I could give her myself, and I didn’t care about me. I told a friend in the crash room to give her everything, and then my mother backed me up and signed the consent. All I wanted was for Emily to live, and my mother knew that. Mothers always do.” He patted Frank’s hand. “Sorry, Frank. You picked the wrong girl to try to kill.” He shrugged. “Me? I guess I’m just unusually stubborn… but stubborn sometimes pays off.” He smiled and held up his left hand, the gold band shining on his ring finger.  
Frank’s mouth fell open. “You-“  
“We got married in the hospital gardens. There are probably more romantic locations, but it is an old 1800s building, so it is beautiful. More importantly, Irene couldn’t get a pass out, and she and Emily are closer than sisters now. Irene spent every night Emily was in the hospital at her bedside, at least until I was released.” Gerard laughed. “It was probably the first wedding where the maid of honour was wearing leg irons under her gown, although she walked surprisingly well.”  
Frank swallowed. “And Emily-“  
“Oh yes, Emily wore a white version of the dress she wore on our first ever date, just with a much longer train, and a white cathedral-length lace mantilla veil… along with the necklace you ripped off her when you shot her.” Gerard’s face darkened. “You shot her, Frank. You shot her and you left her to die on the floor of her hospital room. She didn’t deserve that. No one, except maybe you, deserves that. She’s a good person, and for a while she cared for you, and you told her you cared for her, and you still shot her fifteen times for… for… for what?!” He slammed his hand down on the table. “Because of some delusion that one of us somehow belonged to you? Because you thought you had the right to take her life as if it was nothing, and then to gloat over it as if it was some prize?” Gerard could feel his fists clenching and he had to fight the urge to punch Frank in the gut. “She is my wife, and you hurt her. She makes me happy. She makes me happy every day, and so does our child.” He broke into a smile. “She has a smaller version of my ring in white gold to match her engagement ring, and now instead of sitting on the dunes watching the sea alone in my time off, I sit there with her and our three-month-old daughter Helena. Look, my mother took a picture this last Labour Day weekend.” He held up a photograph of Emily, her red hair now almost to her waist and tied in loose braids, happily holding a tiny baby wearing a Supergirl onesie, big smiles on everyone's faces as he sat with his arm around her shoulders on the beach. “We took this right by our house. The colour scheme, furniture, and art that Emily chose when she redid the place is…” He shook his head. “Well, it’s definitely… interesting, I guess, but then I did say she could choose whatever she wanted.” He sighed. “The main downside is that she made me sell my Trans Am for a more “family-friendly” car. I don’t get to cruise along in my 1978 classic car any more… I get to manhandle my way to work along the parkway in a boxfresh Suburban that still reeks of new car smell.” Gerard wrinkled his nose. “She, of course, has a tiny little cherry red Fiat 500 to zip around in all day with Helena when I’m at work.”  
“Aren’t you scared, Dr Way?” Frank raised his eyebrows. “Aren’t you scared to go to work with all the big scary crazy patients?”  
“They’re not crazy, Frank, they’re just sick, and I want to help them, although I will concede I now keep a .38 S&W in a locked drawer in my desk. I sometimes even let Emily take Helena to work with me so that her godmother Irene can hold her. Helena adores her. She smiles and holds Irene’s fingers in her chubby little hands. It’s honestly the first time I’ve ever seen Irene truly smile at anyone, except maybe Emily at our wedding.” Gerard gave Frank a dirty look. “You, Frank, are sick too, but in a very, VERY different way.”  
Frank just shrugged. “Should have gone with a Glock.”  
“Why, because it worked so well on us?” Gerard fixed him in a glare. “Emily is too ashamed to wear a bathing suit any more, Frank. That’s why she’s wearing one of my old T-shirts over her bikini shorts in the picture. They had to crack her chest to save her life, and she has a long, thick scar running from her throat to her pubic bone, as well as dozens of others from removing bullets. I have the same long scar. When we got married, Anouchka spent hours carefully applying concealer to that scar above the low neckline of her wedding dress before Emily would allow anyone to see her in it, not even Irene. You’ve destroyed her confidence, Frank, at least for now, and you need to pay for that.”  
“Why-“ Frank eyed him nervously as he pulled two syringes and an intubation kit out of his bag and laid them neatly on the table, just out of reach of his chained hands. “Why are you here, Dr Way?”  
“But I’m not here, Frank.” Gerard smiled smugly. “There are over a dozen people at the May ancestral home with my wife and baby daughter perfectly willing to swear I spent the whole evening there with them, including several dignitaries, a state governor, three senators, and two ambassadors that Irene has dirt on. Oh yes, and Emily’s own parents, who have incidentally considerably thawed on her now that she has produced a new May heir, considering that until now she was the last May left. Someday our baby will have the financial power of a small European country, assuming she doesn’t inherit my quirks and spend it all on comics and memorabilia. She’s already grasping out at my collectables.” He smiled to himself. “She’s growing a shadow of my black hair, and I swear her eyes are beginning to turn from standard newborn blue into the same beautiful emerald green as her mother’s. She already has the same porcelain white skin as her, the same high cheekbones… We’re planning at least one more once Helena is a bit bigger. I know Emily’s parents want a boy, but personally I’m hoping for another girl.” He almost smiled, but just about caught himself. No, Gerard. Focus. “And, like you said… not even you recognised me in this get up, not until you heard my voice, and neither will any CCTV cameras. I swiped in with a fake ID. I’m just one more blonde-haired doctor in a white coat wearing blue nitrile gloves.”  
Frank just stared at him as he unscrewed the cap on the first syringe. “Dr Way, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I’m really, really sorry, I… I-“  
“No, you’re not, Frank. You’re a violent sociopath. You’re incapable of remorse. You’re just afraid.” Gerard sounded bored as he flicked the needle on the syringe impatiently. “This is succinylcholine, Frank. It will paralyse you and stop you from kicking and flailing and screaming when I inject the second syringe… which, believe me, you would.” He sighed. “Sadly, it will also stop you from breathing, and that’s far too kind a way to go for you… which is why I’m going to intubate you.” He waved the intubation kit and grinned before lunging forward, shoving the syringe of succinylcholine into Frank’s cubital vein and pushing down the plunger. Frank opened his mouth to scream but couldn’t make a sound, falling back against the pillows with his mouth and eyes wide open.  
Gerard pulled out the syringe, put on the cap, and slipped it in his pocket, looking at his watch. “5 seconds… 10 seconds… 15 seconds…” He looked at Frank. “Is slow suffocation fun, Frank?” Frank stared up at him and Gerard smiled to himself and looked at his watch. “25 seconds… 30 seconds… OK, that’s enough, time to intubate. I don’t want to risk brain damage that might block the pain.” He efficiently unfolded his laryngoscope and forced Frank’s mouth as wide open as it would go, shoving the scope to the back of his throat. “It’s OK, Frank, don’t worry, I see the cords…” He carefully threaded the endotracheal tube through them into his lungs and pulled out the applicator, attaching the ventilation bag and squeezing it rhythmically. “Is that better, Frank? Oh, I forget, you can’t nod.” Gerard laughed and held up the other syringe. “This is potassium chloride. Death penalty states use it in lethal injections to stop the heart, only they sedate the condemned first because it burns like hell itself. But… you hurt my wife. You nearly killed her, and she came as close as it is possible to death for her to be and still come back, and you revelled in it. You laughed and taunted me about it. You taunted HER. You taunted her while she was dying on the floor. She told me all about it. She cried for hours, no matter how tightly I held her. In the end I actually had to sedate her, and what’s more, you felt you DESERVED it.” The fire was back in Gerard’s eyes. “You don’t get the sedation, Frank. You get the full experience.” He grinned. “The best thing is, coroners don’t check for either succinylcholine or potassium chloride on standard toxicology tests. You have no family to push for a full investigation, because you killed them all. The prison will just assume you died from complications after being shanked, and they’ll cover it up because they’ll think it was their mistake for taking you off life support so soon. No one will ever know.” Gerard took his hand off the ventilator bag for a second to take the cap off the syringe. “Here’s the science for you, Frank, since we’ve got some time. Potassium chloride is the drug that causes death in an execution under current lethal injection protocols. Although the other two drugs are administered in lethal dosages and would, in time, produce the prisoner’s death, potassium chloride should cause cardiac arrest and death within a minute of injection. While potassium chloride acts quickly, it is excruciatingly painful if administered without proper anaesthesia. When injected into a vein, it inflames the potassium ions in the sensory nerve fibres, literally burning up the veins as it travels to the heart. Potassium chloride is so painful that even the American Veterinary Medical Association prohibits its use as the sole agent of euthanasia—it may only be used after the animal has been properly anaesthetized.” He shrugged. “I guess I must have forgotten the other two. My bad.” He inserted the syringe into Frank’s cubital vein, smiled, and slowly pushed down the plunger, his eyes on Frank’s. “Goodbye, Frank.”  
Gerard looked down at his watch, squeezing the ventilation bag rhythmically. “10 seconds… 20 seconds… 30 seconds… 40 seconds… 50 seconds… one minute. I think I’m done here.” He patted Frank’s hand, put the cap back on the syringe, and pulled out the tube, tucking both back in his pocket with the applicator and his laryngoscope and tossing the bag into the nearest biohazard bin on his way out of the room.


	19. Epilogue

Epilogue

Frank’s death was never investigated and, as Gerard predicted, the prison quietly covered it up and pretended that it had never happened. No autopsy was ever performed and his death was written off as unexpected internal bleeding.

Gerard kept on working at Sacred Heart South Jersey helping mentally ill patients, although he still keeps the .38 locked in his desk.

Emily abandoned economics and attended the Gallatin School at NYU to study fine arts and sociology when Helena was two years old. She and Gerard put their plans to extend their family on hold until she graduated and bought a two-bedroom apartment in Manhattan for them to live in during the week while she studied. Gerard took a sabbatical and went with her, holding her close and stroking her hair soothingly whenever she had night terrors.

Emily has become a well-known artist in her own right, creating swirling gothic paintings and feature length films that quickly developed a cult following. Although Gerard has more than enough to support them all, she has rapidly amassed a considerable fortune of her own.

Alfonso continues to make Gerard’s suits, as well as Emily’s dresses for formal events, and Anouchka continues to do his eyebrows. Despite their efforts, he still looks scruffy.

However many beautiful necklaces Gerard gives Emily to wear, she is almost never seen without her beloved locket.

Emily and Gerard eventually had four daughters and moved to a larger beachfront house further down the coast in Clinton, NJ, which Emily also proceeded to decorate in her ‘individual’ style. Except for Helena, who inherited her father’s jet black hair, all their daughters are redheads.

The 8x10 photograph of Gerard and Emily taken on their first date together at the dance occupies pride of place on their living room wall.

Gerard did move the couch from his office to their bedroom. Not unexpectedly, it gets far more use than their bed, often multiple times in a single day.

Helena did inherit her father’s ‘quirks’, never misses a comic convention, and writes her own graphic novels professionally. Her younger sister Lea sings in a rock band that is growing in popularity by the day, along with their sister Natalya Alianova, playing rhythm guitar.

Their youngest daughter, Dana, studied pre-med at Harvard and went on to Johns Hopkins medical school, specialising in trauma. Dr Lea Taravella was, by then, the head of the department.

25 years to the day after they met, Gerard gave Emily an eternity ring. Like her wedding and engagement rings, it was made of white gold, and studded around its whole circumference with blue and white diamonds. Inside was engraved the Poe line Emily quoted on their first date - “I was never insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.” Like her wedding and engagement rings, Gerard designed it himself.

Gerard and Emily eventually inherited the May ancestral home. They turned it and its massive walled acreage of gardens into a safe haven for stray and unloved cats, and devoted part of the May fortune to feeding and taking care of them. As of the last count, over 700 rescue cats called it home.


End file.
